


The Prize

by Roo_Bastmoon



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Romance, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:57:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roo_Bastmoon/pseuds/Roo_Bastmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oz wins the war, and as a condition of peace, Treize demands Wufei as his prize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

~*~

Oz had won the war. 

The peace agreement process took less than four hours. Surprisingly, the treaty of unconditional surrender didn't cause quite as much of an uproar as Treize's single, personal demand from the rebellion forces. A token prize; a show of good faith. A Gundam pilot . . . for life. His Gundam pilot.

~*~

Chang Wufei stared blankly out the window, his eyes glazed over. He was too exhausted to be afraid. 

What the fuck did they expect him to do here at OZ headquarters? Why? Why would Krushrenada want him? Torture? It didn’t faze him. Hardly anything did anymore. He was quiet, resolute, and detached. The war had taken too much from him.

The war . . .

The blood, the struggle, the sacrifices . . . even losing, that he could wrap his mind around. But to live as Krushrenada's slave . . . Was that a warrior’s end? 

It didn't make any sense. Wars were about politics, land rights, religious grudges . . . Why didn’t they just kill all the Gundam pilots, trump up some charges for war crimes? 

Well, obviously, because Treize wanted to humiliate them. Treize wanted to humiliate him. There was no honor in this surrender. 

Wufei went because if he didn't, Treize could call it a breach of the peace treaty and start bombing the colonies again. The bastard probably would, too. Wufei went because he just didn't care if he lived or died anymore. Wufei went because he was curious. 

"You may go in now. The general wants to see you," a young officer growled at him.

Wufei stood, feeling a little awkward in his new outfit, and followed the guard into Treize's study. He didn't really need to be led . . . How many times had he visited that office? Exactly how many duels did Wufei lose to this man? 

One too many, it seemed.

~*~

Treize turned as the huge oak door to his office opened. An officer clicked his heels, saluting, and awaited instructions. Instructions he didn't get, because Treize was completely focused on the small boy who knelt on the floor, face covered with soft strands of black hair, eyes lowered, arms trembling slightly. The boy shook; he wore an elaborate tunic of white silk with an emerald dragon winding up the shoulder and neck. 

Treize sucked in a breath, and moved to pour himself a glass of wine. Wufei might have noticed the shaking of his hands, had his eyes ever lifted from the floor.

"You may go," Treize murmured.

The guard clicked his heels again and practically ran out of the room.

Treize surveyed his captive critically. The boy knelt, no doubt having been given orders to; he looked well groomed enough, and even calm. But Treize knew better. His arms trembled—from hunger or from fear? And there were circles under his eyes. And not even an ounce of resistance. That was not like his dragon.

"Wufei."

Wufei looked up at Treize, but those black eyes did not travel higher than his cravat. "Yes, Master?"

Treize had not been prepared. Not at all. He tried to breathe. He tried again.

"I'll show you to your room."


	2. Chapter 2

"This will be your room."

Wufei was confused. This lavish bedroom wasn’t exactly the prison cell he’d expected. 

"This will be my room?" he repeated, quite stupidly.

"Yes. You may come and go as you like, provided that you agree to wearing this—" Treize held up an exquisite choker made of gold, the ends of which would stop at the tips of Wufei's collarbone. 

Wufei eyed it suspiciously. "Tracking device inside?"

"Smart lad."

"So it's a collar . . . Master?" he ground out.

"If you would prefer to have the constant company of my guards . . ."

"That will not be necessary, Master. I will wear whatever you wish."

Wufei reached for the necklace but Treize was faster. He laced it around Wufei's neck and stepped back to appreciate his work. "It suits you."

Wufei wanted to snarl. He really wanted to sink his teeth into the man’s hand. But he couldn't. He had to keep the peace. If he didn't appease the general, then his friends, and countless others, would suffer. Wufei lowered his eyes, masking his frustration. "Thank you, Master."

"When we are alone, you may call me Treize." Treize raked Wufei with his gaze; he was a little intimidated. He would have blushed and squirmed, if he wasn’t so tired . . .

"I will not harm you, Wufei. Please be at ease. While you are here, everything will be provided for you. You'll find that you have no duties other than to amuse me . . ."

Wufei smiled mirthlessly. 

They stared at each other for a few beats, then the older man said, "I assume you are hungry. Dinner will be served in an hour. I, unfortunately, have a meeting to attend, so I will not be able to join you, but perhaps you will need some time alone to adjust to your new surroundings."

So, the general would treat him like a pet. Like a dog. But why was he pretending to be kind? 

"Wufei?"

"Yes, Mas—Treize?" Wufei stuttered.

"Is there anything else you might require?"

Wufei frowned. "Um no."

"Very well. I shall see you later then."

Treize turned and walked out of the door without another word, closing it without looking back.

Wufei walked to the door and tested it. Unlocked! Free! He opened the door and stared at two giant guards. He slammed the door shut. Not so free.

He didn’t want to go outside anyway. He was too tired. 

He looked around the room. There was a big canopy bed with about a dozen fancy pillows . . . a massive writing table . . . large glass windows and a balcony with French doors . . . a highboy . . . a marble fireplace that took up an entire wall panel . . . and various tables topped with vases that teamed with roses. 

Very like Treize. Very, very like Treize. 

Wufei sighed. It was a beautiful cell, a little too formal to be cozy, but a cell nonetheless. Here he would remain, until Treize got bored and just killed him. He was looking forward to that day.

He opened the door on the left and found a spacious bathroom, equipped with a hot-tub, shower, and not two but three sinks—what the hell would he need three sinks for?—and a large mirror with vanity lights. 

He walked out and opened the door to his right. It was a walk-in closet. There were tons of clothes, hung neatly. Outfits that were way, way too big for him. Uniforms . . .? Treize's uniforms!

Wufei had been put in Treize's room.

So, he would be sleeping with the general? He wasn’t really surprised. Outraged and terrified, of course, but not surprised.

All those double entendres. The countless little quips and insinuations as they dueled. And those long, piercing looks. His fancy new clothes. There was no doubt what kind of slave Wufei would be here. 

He began to shut down all his walls.

Just then the door opened and a young female officer came in, carrying a tray.

"I hope it is to your liking. If not, please feel free to order something else." She set the tray down on the writing table. "The general wasn’t sure about your tastes, so we just prepared a traditional meal from your colony. If you need anything else, just press seven-seven on that phone over there and someone will be right up. Good evening." 

With that, the girl turned sharply and left. 

Wufei just stared after her. He rubbed his eyes. Was this all a dream? No, they had drugged him. That was it. He remembered now; they had drugged him so he wouldn't fight during the transport. That must be why everything seemed so strange today.

His stomach growled. Wufei moved over to the table and inspected the food—shrimp stir-fry. It smelled good. Could be poisoned. Unlikely, but Treize could be fucking with his mind.

Didn’t matter, either way.

He wolfed down some of the broccoli, barely registering the wonderful taste. Even the sticky rice was delicious. He forced himself slow down; didn’t want to get sick. When he finished, he covered the tray and looked around, half expecting the girl to come back, since the room was probably under surveillance. 

Nothing happened. 

He felt kind of whoozy, though, so he spread out across the bed. He blinked once. Twice. He bunched up one of those fancy pillows and closed his eyes . . .

~*~

Treize snicked open the door and peered into his room; his dragon was stretched out across his bed, snoring lightly, lips parted. The boy mumbled in his sleep but didn't move. He looked so cute; Treize had to smile. 

He quietly walked across the carpet, slowly removing his cravat. By the time he reached the closet, he’d unbuttoned his shirt. Wufei twitched, and opened his eyes just as Treize started unbuttoning his pants.

The boy shot up and gave a little cry.

"Shh!" Treize scolded, pointing to the guards on the other side of the door. Then he smiled and said in hushed voice, "They're trained to enter, armed, if they hear any sounds of distress," Treize said. "That goes for both of us."

Wufei blushed and looked down. "Am I to be gagged then, Treize?"

Treize blinked and then chuckled. "Would you like to be?" He smirked, but then he realized—Wufei wasn’t joking. "No, no, Dragon; it’s not like that, I assure you."

Wufei looked up, saw Treize in his boxers, and lowered his eyes again.

He crossed his arms. "Wufei, I bet you are wondering why I put you in my chambers, right?"

"Oh, I think I figured it out, Treize."

"Did you? Then you don't need to hear my explanation?" Treize walked toward the bed.

Wufei shifted back toward the headboard, swallowing. "You can explain if you w-want t-to.”

Treize smiled. "Well, little one, considering you were the enemy and everything . . . I thought it unwise to leave you in a room where any guard," he inched closer, "any officer," moved to the side of the bed, "or any personnel with a grudge could harm you. So I had you placed here, under my protection. You are safe in these apartments. I promise no harm will come to you."

Wufei tilted his head. "So long as I do everything you say."

He nodded. "Something to that extent." Treize rolled back the covers. 

"So, I’ll sleep on the floor?" Wufei asked hopefully.

"No, this is big enough to share."

"That is not necessa—"

"You will sleep here." It was not an invitation.

Wufei scowled. He thought for a moment. "You . . .”

"I will sleep here too." 

Wufei’s shoulders sagged. “Right.” He ripped back the sheets and toed off his slippers. No other clothing came off. “But you said no harm will come to me?”

“That’s right.”

"If you touch me—"

Treize looked up.

"I'll . . ."

Treize raised an eyebrow.

"Don’t touch me."

"I wouldn't think of it, Dragon." Treize smiled wryly.

"Good."

How amusing. Some food and some rest should return the boy to his caustic, stubborn, impassioned personality. Treize needed that. He needed that, badly.

"Good night, Dragon."

Wufei just threw his head against the pillows and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Treize turned out the lights. He smiled. Wufei was already asleep again.


	3. Chapter 3

If Treize had so much as brushed up against Wufei in the night, he didn’t feel it.

"Good morning, my dragon."

"Treize." Wufei rubbed his eyes and looked over at the pewter clock on the nightstand. "This is not morning. This is the ungodly hour of five a.m."

Treize chuckled. "Ah yes, little one. But for me, it is very much time to wake up. I have much to do."

"Why? You planning on starting another war?" Wufei said sleepily.

"Not if I can help it," the older man coldly replied.

Wufei’s eyes blinked, suddenly very awake. “The hostilities are over, right? You said so in that speech . . .”

“I merely meant that should OZ fight another war, it will not be my doing. There are always little fires that need putting out . . ."

Wufei sighed and relaxed back into the warm silk sheets. "What am I to do today?"

Treize put on his robe. It was a little chilly. "Your profile stated that before the war you were a scholar; is that not true?"

Wufei started. "Um, yeah, sort of . . ."

"Well then, you should be right at home here. I have pulled various books from my library, which I thought you would enjoy. You will have tutors in the arts, math and sciences, and I wish to teach you Latin and Greek myself."

Wufei blinked rapidly. They must have put something in his shrimp stir-fry. "You want to teach me Latin?"

"And Greek."

"And Greek."

"Should I take to calling you my parrot, my dragon?"

"I am not learning Latin!" Wow, did he have a headache.

Treize chuckled. "Why ever not? It’s a very useful language . . ."

“It’s a very dead language. Besides, um . . . I don’t want to?”

The older man smiled in such a way that Wufei positively shivered. "You will learn Latin, Wufei. And Greek."

"Or else what?"

Treize blinked. "There is no what else. It simply will be done."

Wufei sat up. "What the hell is this about, Krushrenada?"

"Treize, please," the general calmly corrected.

"Treize—whatever. Look, what are you up to, already? I don’t get it.” Wufei threw up his hands. “You claim me as a war prize, but give me a beautiful bedroom as a cell; you don’t guard me, but give me a dog collar; you sleep in the same bed with me, but don’t touch me, and now you want me to learn the classics? Doesn’t that sound a little fucked up to you?"

Treize winced. "We are going to have to do something about your expletives, Dragon—"

"Don’t you do that!” Wufei stabbed a finger at the older man. “Don’t you take away my right to say whatever I want! I can think what I want and use whatever words I feel like and if you even try to censor me—"

"You are right," Treize said gently, tapping Wufei’s knee. "You are right. I have no right to control your mind, Wufei; I simply ask that you try to be more courteous when someone is trying to be courteous with you."

"Oh," was all Wufei could think to say.

Treize pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dragon, there are only two rules you have to remember while you live here. One: you must never try to escape. Ever. I can promise full retribution if you do so. Two: you are mine and no one else’s. All that I require is your presence, beside me, in quiet moments, when I am not being the general of OZ . . . your presence alone is enough to . . . it is enough."

Wufei titled his head. “Why?"

" 'Why' is not something you need to concern yourself with right now, Dragon. Perhaps when you are ready, I will teach you why. Until then, it will be Latin. And Greek." Treize smiled evilly. "And French."

Wufei groaned and buried his face in the pillow. 

"Well, I will return in the evening—"

Wufei whipped around. "Where are you going?" 

"Why, to work, my dragon. OZ doesn’t run itself."

"What will I . . . ?"

"You are free to roam the halls; just wear your necklace, Dragon, and all will know who you are and to whom you belong."

That last part made Wufei shudder.

"I bid you enjoy your day."

~*~

Wufei walked around the building, soundlessly, as was habit. Except for guards, the building had been fairly deserted. 

He soon realized that the OZ headquarters was once a palace, with several wings and corridors leading to a labyrinth of twist and turns. He discovered the conservatory, several drawing rooms, a dining hall big enough to fit a hundred people, and an even larger ballroom, with a grand piano in the corner. 

Wufei approached it shyly. The room had no lights on, but he could still make out the keys. He sat down and brushed the dust off. Tentatively, he began to play a lullaby that had been taught to him as a child. He had loved music before the war . . . but had no time to keep up with his hobby while he was busy piloting Shenlong. Several months stuck in Nataku, and he forgot how to read sheet music. Then again, he played the taiko drums, and he never needed to read music to find a beat.

"That is lovely, Mister Chang,” a soft voice said. “Forgive me for startling you. I didn’t mean to make you stop."

A tall blond man that Wufei had never seen before stood beside the piano. 

Wufei jumped up to his feet, but he could think of nothing to say. This was the first person he’d talked to besides Treize, and he didn’t know what was expected of him.

"That was a lovely song you played just now. What was it called?"

"I don’t remember. My grandmother, she played. She used to sing it to me . . .” He abruptly trailed off. Something about this man made him want to talk, and that was very dangerous. 

“Yes. The women in my family always excelled at music too." The blond smiled.

"Hn."

"But forgive me, we have not been properly introduced, and I fear you do not remember me . . .” The man bowed, his hair tumbling over his shoulders. “I am Milliard Peacecraft."

"Peacecraft?!"

A thin smile. "Yes. Formerly, Zechs Marquise."

"Ze—Zec—"

"Zechs Marquise," the man finished for him. "I have returned to OZ for the peace talks. It seems the good general has outdone himself."

"Indeed?" Wufei asked coldly. 

The Lightning Count just stood there in front of him, making polite conversation, pretending that it wasn’t odd to be back at OZ, pretending that he didn’t want Treize Krushrenada dead only a few weeks ago, pretending that Wufei wasn't standing there because he was Treize’s prize.

After a while, the charade really grated on Wufei’s nerves.

"Do politicians always drivel so pointlessly?" he asked, then caught himself, his hand flying to his mouth.

Zechs looked like he might cry.

Did Treize not ask him just this morning to pay particular attention to courtesy? “I’m very sorry.”

Zechs just burst out laughing. "No, you’re honest, and I like that about you, Wufei. You will keep Treize on his toes, for certain!" The blond man looked down at the piano, suddenly solemn. "He’s not a bad man, you know. He’s just . . ."

Wufei shook his head. "There aren’t words."

Zechs smiled. “Indeed.” He ran his fingertips over the piano’s top, getting dust on his white gloves. "While I am here, shall we play a duet sometime?"

Wufei swallowed. "I have forgotten how to read music.”

Zechs clucked his tongue. “That simply will not do! Let’s see . . . Are . . . Are you permitted to move about freely?"

"Yes, so long as I wear this." Wufei tapped his gold choker.

Zechs' eyes narrowed slightly. "I see. Then, perhaps after dinner, you and I could practice a little? It’s been a while since I’ve played."

Wufei considered it. He didn’t have anything better to do. "I would like that, Zechs. Provided my master allows it." He spit the word “master” out at Zechs.

Zechs bowed his head. "I think we can persuade him."

~*~

Wufei was silent during most of dinner. The boy didn’t know anyone there, save himself and Zechs, and they were so engrossed in discussing politics that they barely noticed him. 

Or at least, that’s what Treize wanted the boy to believe. He stole glances at Wufei—watching the boy carefully cut his meat and delicately sip his wine, blushing slightly under the heat of the lights. He watched Wufei lift his food to his mouth with extreme hesitancy. It was only natural that his dragon was nervous. Everyone else in the room had been staring at him like he was a circus attraction. Still . . . something didn’t seem quite right with Wufei . . .

"Is it not to your liking, our German cuisine?" a lobbyist asked Wufei. It was a trap, and a painfully obvious one, but stated kindly enough that Treize couldn’t do anything about it.

Wufei turned his head. "No, sir; I am not used to eating so much meat," Wufei replied, his voice dripping with false politeness. 

Treize pressed his napkin to his lips to hide his smile.

The lobbyist frowned. "Is that so? I would have thought that such a celebrated soldier would enjoy the best the resistance could afford to offer?”

Wufei said to no one in particular, “We Gundam pilots were put on a strict diet.” 

Everyone stopped, turning to the boy. 

He cleared his throat. “The fuselage on our mechs. . . is very small. It can only support so much weight; there’s not much room to move the levers. It takes a small body, a child’s, really, so we didn’t get to eat much . . .” He trailed off, staring at his wine glass. “Anyway, I am not a soldier any more,” the boy whispered.

Treize scowled, appalled. “You mean to say they starved you?”

Wufei looked up. “We had our protein rations,” he said simply.

A tense gloom descended. Treize was furious, and the other guests could tell. 

“Another blessing that the war is over,” Zechs said in a soothing voice. “Now that you are with us, Wufei, I hope you will eat your fill.” 

The boy bowed to Zechs.

Eventually the lobbyist struck up conversation with someone else. People relaxed. 

Treize was grateful to Milliard, but he kept his attention on Wufei. The boy held his gaze for just a moment—there was such sadness there. It made his chest ache.

"May I play the piano with Zechs after dinner, Master?" Wufei whispered to him.

Treize looked over at Zechs and smiled warmly. Very grateful, indeed. "Yes, Wufei. It would please me very much to listen."

Milliard smiled back. 

~*~

After about a half-hour of reviewing sheet music, Zechs decided to test how much Wufei had remembered. He chose “Ave Maria” by Bach, and sat down on the stool beside Wufei, taking the lower part of the piano for himself.

Wufei squinted. This was a very hard piece for someone who hadn’t touched a piano in over two years. And Treize sat there in a massive armchair only a few feet away. That did not help much.

But he was determined to impress Treize—why, he couldn’t really say— and so Wufei found himself playing with all his concentration. He stayed calm, and confident, and even though he didn’t get everything right, there were no glaring mistakes. 

Zechs sat by his side, pressing the pedals, turning the pages for him, nodding his head to keep the tempo. Wufei couldn’t read the words, but he hummed along, surprised that he could hit the high notes. Apparently, his voice hadn’t changed all that much with puberty. A depressing thought.

Wufei blinked as they came to the end of the song. 

Zechs smiled softly. "Very well done, Mister Chang," he whispered.

"Thank you." He looked searchingly at Treize.

The man said nothing. He stared at Wufei like he’d been mesmerized. 

Wufei turned his face away, trying not to blush. He felt so out of it.

Zechs cleared his throat to ease the tension. "Forgive me, General. I fear it has been a very long journey, and I find myself in need of rest. I will bid you goodnight." Zechs bowed to Treize and to Wufei, who merely nodded in a daze, feeling slightly weightless and unsteady.

"An excellent idea, Zechs. I think we shall follow your example. Come Wufei."

Sighing, Wufei rose from the seat and closed the lid over the piano keys. He felt like he was under water. He followed Treize to their bedroom and didn’t even think to protest when Treize helped him out of his dinner jacket. However, when Treize’s fingers scraped over his right nipple, Wufei snapped back to the present, turning sharply and undressing himself. 

"I would like you to wear this tonight, Dragon," Treize said, as he took out a pair of green silk pajamas from the highboy. "I shudder to think of you sleeping in your clothes every night."

"I haven’t anything but the tunic," Wufei said simply.

Treize raised his eyebrows. "Nothing else? You brought nothing else with you?"

"They didn’t give me anything else."

"Why not?"

Wufei gave Treize a look. "They didn’t expect me to live long enough to need another outfit," he said dryly.

Treize gave a wry grin, tossing the pajamas at Wufei. "What do you think of my palace, Wufei? Does it meet with your approval?"

"Well enough," Wufei said, pretending to be bored, which only made Treize grin even harder—the opposite effect he’d intended. Wufei licked his lips. "May I go outside sometimes?"

Treize frowned. "On the grounds, you mean?"

"Yes, outside; under the sky." Wufei waved his hand.

"You may go in the gardens away from my presence. Nowhere beyond that, without me. Understood?" Treize frowned. 

"Yes, Treize."

Treize’s expression softened. "Very well then, Dragon. You may go outside tomorrow, if you wish." The older man headed toward the closet, unbuttoning his cufflinks. "But you must come back in by four."

"Why?"

"Latin lessons."

Wufei groaned, but nodded. "Is Latin one of the first foreign languages you learned?"

"Yes." Treize emerged from the closet wearing only drawstring pajama pants. His chest was . . . impressive. Broad, broad shoulders. “Latin and Greek.” 

They lay down.

"Did you learn it in school?"

"Private tutors when I was young, then later at school." Treize pulled up the covers.

"Did you like it?"

“Not especially."

"Then why are you making me learn it?"

Treize turned on his side, staring at Wufei. "Everything I make you do is for your own benefit, Dragon."

"I doubt that, Treize. Where did you go to school?"

"The Academy."

"Did you like your teachers?" Wufei’s eyes drooped.

"Very much."

Wufei yawned. "Were they strict?"

"Yes."

“Are you going to be very strict?"

"You can count on it."

Wufei smiled. "Good. I like a challenge."

"I know that, Dragon."

Frowning, Wufei moved a little closer and whispered, "Why do you call me that?"

"Are you not of the Dragon Clan, Chang Wufei?"

He was shocked. "How did you know?"

"I know everything there is on record about you Wufei. I know about your colony . . . your family . . . your wife . . . I’m very sorry for your loss."

Rage. Quiet, despairing rage. "You had no right—"

"Yes, well, chalk it up to me being a bastard, and then get some sleep."

"Treize?" Wufei yawned again.

"Yes, Dragon?"

"You are a bastard."

"Thank you, Dragon." Treize turned out the light.

Wufei fell asleep, his head resting on Treize’s arm; he was too tired to bother moving.

~*~

Wufei sat on the terrace railing that overlooked a very bleak, expansive garden. All the flowers and bushes were covered in blankets of fresh snow. He listened to the birds and breathed in the crisp air; he could see puffs of white-warm breath when he exhaled. 

He was content enough. It had been so long since he could just . . . sit. Appreciate his surroundings. Anything was better than the cold vacuum of space. Even the snow smelled nice. The sun was bright, even if it held no warmth. The sky was a lonely blue. 

In truth, he was very lost. He missed Duo’s stupid jokes and Quatre’s smile . . . even Trowa’s silent presence. Hiro . . . well, he’d always appreciated Hiro’s . . . intense focus. He missed piloting; missed feeling useful. He missed having a purpose.

He blinked. The sound of snow—crunching under boots. Wufei snapped his head up. Two officers stood about three feet away. They just stood there, staring at him. 

“Muller? Is that what I think it is?"

“Look at the collar, Alexi. He’s Krushrenada’s pet.”

They grinned.

Wufei got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He hopped off the railing and quickly thought through his options. He could run, but aside from Treize’s bedroom, where could he hide? The guards certainly weren’t going to save him, and he wouldn’t be able to outrun these guys all the way to the other side of the palace. And he was a pretty good fighter, but he was so tiredly lately, and there were two of them, and they were armed. 

"Leave me alone!" Wufei murmured.

" 'Leave me alone!' " Muller mocked. 

A swift kick—bony knee to his gut—and Wufei doubled over on the ground. The snow was cold and hard beneath him.

Muller kicked him again; Wufei just rolled with it. "What, not gonna even fight back?” 

"Muller, that’s enough. You’re gonna get court marshaled!" Alexi said.

"Go shit your pants somewhere else, okay? This freak might be the general’s, but I got a feeling he won’t squeal. Hold him down!"

Alexi held him down. It wasn’t necessary. Wufei didn’t move.

~*~

Treize looked at the clock. Wufei was late for his lessons. He frowned. Wufei could be hot-tempered, certainly, but insulting Treize by not showing up was unlike his dragon; Treize grew impatient and then extremely angry. 

He drummed his long fingers on the textbooks as the minutes dragged by. Damn it! He would teach the boy to obey him; it was that simple. Treize got up from behind the desk and strode to the door, scowling.

~*~

When Muller tried to unbutton Wufei’s pants, something inside him snapped. He shouted, “NO!” and then wrenched out of Alexi’s grip, crawling backward over the snow. 

"I said hold him down!" Muller yelled to Alexi.

Wufei bit into Alexi’s leg and got a nice kick in the teeth for it. Hot blood spilled from his mouth onto the virgin snow.

"Son of bitch bit me!" Alexi squealed, grabbing his leg. 

Muller ripped Wufei’s top open, exposing his chest. He drooled blood down onto his belly. He couldn’t focus; his brain registered the hot liquid and the cold air, and the rest of him just shut down. 

They wrenched him up. 

“Treize,” he called weakly, his body rigid.

Alexi slapped him, hard. A thin spray of blood shot out from his mouth. "This will go easier if you’d stop being such a pain in the ass, kid."

"Oh yes, very good, rationalize with the brat,” Muller said. “Just get his pants down!"

Alexi’s hand shook, but they ripped Wufei’s pants down around his ankles. The two officers turned him around and pushed him flat against the snow. 

“St-stop . . .”

Muller laughed. “That’s funny. You’ll spread like a whore for the general, but a lieutenant’s not good enough for you?” The man’s hand smoothed over the curve of Wufei’s ass. “Don’t worry. You’ll moan once I put it in you.”

"TREIZE!" Wufei screamed. 

"Shit! Shut him up, Alexi, before somebody comes.” Muller looked around, then unzipped his pants. “Just for that, kid, I’m gonna fuckin’ forget to be nice!"

He pinned Wufei face-down in the snow, trapping him, muffling his cries. Wufei could feel the man’s erection nudge against his ass. 

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. This was . . . so familiar . . . His whole body went slack. 

Suddenly the weight on top of him vanished. Wufei gasped for air and lifted his head—Treize towered over him for a moment.

What happened next was a blur. 

The general beat Muller within an inch of his life. Wufei could hear the ribs crack and cheekbones break. Alexi stood there like a frightened deer. When Treize finished with Muller, he whirled around, his face twisted in rage. He grabbed Alexi by the hair and bashed his face into the terrace railing, over and over. Then he threw the man on top of Muller; both of them crumbled over, oozing blood and pulp. 

The Treize turned toward Wufei. Wufei stared, his mouth hanging open. The anger in the older man vanished; his expression melted into one of concern. Still, Wufei whimpered and tried to push himself away.

"Not again, not again, not again," he whispered.

~*~

Wufei was babbling. He was spitting blood and shaking and babbling. Treize had seen a lot on the battlefield, but this really upset him. 

When Wufei finally let him get close enough, he checked for injuries, but aside from a cut on the mouth and a bruise on his stomach, he seemed fine. Treize covered him with his overcoat, hoisted the boy up, and carried him into the building. Once inside their bedroom, Treize placed Wufei on the bed and got cloths to wipe up the blood. He told his guards to arrest the rapists, giving strict instructions to keep the matter confidential.

Treize dabbed Wufei’s mouth with cotton balls and witchhazel. "These kind of cuts always bleed a lot, but they're not serious."

The boy just rocked back and forth ever so slightly, his eyes very far away. He was ridiculously cold. Treize got into bed with him, arragned the covers, and pulled Wufei close, stroking his back slowly. 

Wufei blinked. He seemed to come back to himself all at once. "Oh, Master. Treize. Oh . . . oh.” Wufei grimaced. “I’m sorry. I was stupid . . .”

"Its all right, Wufei; you’re safe now. Are you hurt?"

"A little . . . I . . .”

"Do you need a doctor?"

"No, I—"

"Did they . . .” Treize shifted, petting Wufei’s hair. “Did they do anything to you?"

Wufei shivered. "You stopped them in time. I’m sorry.”

“Dragon? Surely you didn’t provoke them?"

The boy shook his head. “I didn’t even see them until . . . No. I mean, I’m sorry I missed our Latin practice."

Treize let out a puff of air. "Dear boy. I will teach you some Latin now. Your first word will be a hard one, but then you like a challenge, don’t you?"

Wufei nodded, his forehead butting against Treize’s chest.

"Then our first word will be ‘pulchritudinous.’ Can you say that?"

"Pol—Pulcri—tudinous." Wufei continued to shake every once in a while. Treize rubbed his back. 

"Good. Very good. That is one of the words I will use to describe you, my dragon."

"Treize?"

“Mm?”

"What does pulchritudinous mean?"

Treize smiled, tangling his fingers in Wufei’s long hair. "Beautiful. Exquisite. Elegant. Pulchritudinous."

Wufei whimpered.

"Dragon?"

"Yes, Treize?"

"Sleep now. I will keep you safe. Sleep; I can see you are tired.”

"No, I’m not . . .”

No sooner were the words out, than Wufei fell asleep in Treize’s arms . . . for the third time in thirty-six hours. 

Why was the boy so exhausted? So resolute? He didn’t even argue anymore. What had happened to his dragon? 

He wrapped Wufei up tighter in the blankets and went over the the tele-com. The number he pressed was second in the dial-memory.

In a matter of moments, Milliard's familiar face blinked onto the screen. "Treize?"

"I think I might have killed them," Treize blurted.

"What?" Milliard said slowly.

"Wufei's rapists. The men that tried to rape him. My men. I think I might have killed them, I don't know." Treize ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose I'll have to answer for that, except I'm pretty much in charge at the moment, so . . ."

"Treize. What are you talking about?" Milliard inched forward, frowning.

"Some of my men tried to rape Wufei. They had him out of his clothes by the time I found them." Treize glanced over his shoulder, then back at the screen. "He was . . . traumatized. I had just assumed . . . I thought that resisting torture was part of the Gundam training. Wasn't it?"

Milliard swallowed. "Our Intelligence said so, yes."

"Well, this was . . ." Treize shook his head. "The boy went into a fugue state. I couldn't get him warm . . ."

"Where is he now?" Milliard said gently, touching the screen in an effort to calm him down.

"He's asleep on the bed. He just passed out. It's very strange, Milliard, very strange."

The blond man frowned. "Have you figured out what you're going to do?"

Treize rubbed his knuckles over his lips for a few moments. "Yes."

Milliard didn't miss a beat. "Perhaps I should return? And help you see that it's done?"

He relaxed. "I don't want to put you out, but . . ."

"Treize," Milliard chastened.

"I admit . . . having you here would be a help. You have always . . ."

The blond nodded. "I shall finish up my business tonight and leave first thing in the morning. Are you all right? There's blood on your face."

Treize wiped his cheeks. "It's not mine."

Milliard looked at him for a long moment. "I'll be there soon," he whispered.

"Thank you."

~*~

Weeks passed. Milliard did come as promised, and returned often after that. Treize did not press Wufei for any explanations, he simply ensured that the boy had an armed escort no more than five hundred paces behind, any time he left the bedroom. He quietly arranged for Muller and Alexi’s hanging, and then decided the entire incident was best left in the past. 

Every afternoon, during his break, Treize would take tea in his room. There, he would practice Latin, French, and Greek with Wufei. The boy was a remarkably fast learner; although he stumbled over Greek quite a bit, having a marked distaste for it. When Treize asked him why, the boy simply replied “because” and left it at that. 

Treize was certainly entertained.

Apart from study hour with Treize, Wufei excelled in math and science, more than satisfied his Composition instructor, and in his spare time, read all of Treize’s historical novels. 

After dinner, Treize would retire to their room and read in front of the fireplace, while Wufei pored over his homework. This happened without complaint—unless it was Greek, naturally—and the two found each others’ quiet companionship most comfortable.

Milliard came on diplomatic missions about twice a week, and so Wufei’s piano playing improved greatly. All in all, he was shaping into a fine young man. 

Treize decided that it was time to move things forward . . .

"Dancing! Are you mad?" Wufei shouted, his hands on his hips.

"I assure you I am quite sane, Dragon,” Treize murmured, smiling.

"But Treize . . . Master . . . Would you seek to make me some limp-wristed, pansy-ass, laze-about aristocrat?" The boy stomped his foot.

Milliard bit his lip to keep from laughing. He shot Treize a look—clearly the boy knew exactly what buttons to push, and his very dear friend was amused by this. 

Treize took a deep breath. "Wufei." He closed the distance between them. "You should know by now that your protests fall upon deaf ears." 

Wufei backed up against the wall.

Milliard shook his head, muttering to himself. 

"And Dragon? I would never make you a ‘limp-wristed, pansy-ass, laze-about' anything, let alone an aristocrat, which is a station in life to which you must be born, mores the pity,” Treize teased. "I merely wish you to be able to hold your own in the presence of the aristocracy, as you will find yourself in their presence quite often."

Wufei . . . pouted. It was truly adorable. "But . . . But why? I like it here. Away from everyone. I—I don’t want to—"

"Are you saying you wish to hide from the world?" Treize said, his tone a tad sharp. “That is not the Wufei I knew.”

The boy hung is head. His voice got very soft. "It’s quiet here. It’s nice. No one looks at me . . . no one sees me . . ."

Milliard sucked in a breath and stared at Treize. Wisely, his friend kept his mouth shut and his nose stuck in his book. But they were both thinking the same thing—something had changed Wufei deeply, before he’d agreed to be Treize’s prize.

"My dragon," Treize purred. "Beauty such as yourself cannot be shut away from the world. Are you scared, my little one?"

Wufei stiffened. "Don’t call me that. And no, I am not a-afraid." His voice trembled.

"Ah. Very good. Then we will begin with the waltz. It’s very simple. You follow me, and then later I will teach you to lead."

Wufei raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why? Who do I have to lead?"

Treize closed his eyes, stretching his neck from side to side. "You are so exasperating! Women of course!"

Wufei clutched at Treize’s uniform, panicked. "No, please!" He shook his head. 

Treize started, shocked. Milliard put down his book. They exchanged glances, confused.

"Please don’t make me dance with women. I’ll dance with you, but . . . no one else.” Wufei’s fingers curled so tightly over Treize’s waistcoat that his fingers were white, bloodless. “I—I don’t like women . . .”

"But . . ."

"Please, Master!" The boy whimpered. “I don’t think I can obey you in this.”

Treize stroked Wufei’s hair behind his ear. "Very well. You shall not dance with anyone you do not wish, how is that?"

"Thank you, Master!"

Treize hugged Wufei to him. The boy didn’t resist in the slightest, which he considered progress. "You know I could deny you nothing, Dragon. We are equal in that respect, at least. You will obey me in all that is right. And in turn, I will deny you nothing but what might harm you." 

"You—you are very kind, Master,” Wufei whispered in his ear.

Treize chuckled. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me!"

Wufei smirked. "But you are too clever for flattery, Master."

Treize looked at his dear friend. “Have you been taking etiquette lessons with Milliard?”

The blond shrugged and brushed his hair over his shoulder. 

Wufei grinned at Milliard, who smiled back shyly. 

Half an hour later, Treize had Wufei locked in an oval frame, going over footwork. "One, two, three. One, two, three. Pivot on the twinkle, use counter body movement on the turns. There. We go like that, just like that, all the way through."

"Surely there is more to your dancing than this?"

"Well, there are breaks and fans and such, which you will learn later,” Treize assured, straightening his vest.

“This is really boring,” Wufei said with a grin.

“How polite of you, young man,” Treize replied casually. 

Wufei reached up and pulled free the silk cravat around Treize’s neck. Treize quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Wufei wrapped the material around Treize’s hand, and then his own. 

"This is how we used to dance in my village."

Wufei circled Treize, pulling the cloth taut so that he had to keep turning to avoid getting tangled. It was very slow and very delicate and somewhat sensual. Wufei looked amazing like this—lips parted, breathless, concentrating hard, a smile on his lips. 

"This is very nice," Treize murmured. "But I can recognize when you seek to distract me, Dragon. You still have to learn the waltz."

"Very well, Master," the boy said easily. 

"Good. You have three days to learn to waltz, tango, and fox trot."

"Only three days? Are you—"

"No, I am not mad. And yes; three days. That is when I will present you at the Spring Ball."

"Present? Ball? Oh shit."

"Wufei."

"Sorry, Master."

" Now, head up, face at eleven o’clock, and put your left hand up on my shoulder, yes, like that. Ready? One, two, three . . .”

Milliard shook his head and went back to his book.


	4. Chapter 4

Wufei was really nervous. It was half an hour before the ball, and there was still no sign of Treize. He hated to admit it, but he was close to panic. He was about to hunt down the general himself, when he ran smack into Zechs Marquise. 

"Zechs!"

The blond was in a stunning white tux. He carried white boxes wrapped in blue satin ribbons. "Hello, Wufei. You’re looking extremely pale. And call me Milliard, please."

"Milliard . . ." Wufei glanced between the man and the door. "Have you seen Treize—I mean, my master?"

"I have. He’s finishing up some last minute things. He sent me to help you get ready."

Wufei grumbled and peered at the boxed. "But I am ready."

Zechs looked him up and down. "That old thing? Treize would kill me if I let you downstairs in those old white rags."

Wufei’s eyes narrowed into slits. "I was married in these old white rags," he hissed.

Zechs looked mortified. “My apologies. I am certain they were lovely three years ago, but they’re in bad shape now, and if I know Treize Krushrenada—and believe me, I do—it simply wouldn’t do to have his little dragon in out-of-style attire.” Zechs stroked his hair. “I’ll be sure to have that pressed and packed carefully away. Now march yourself over to that mirror and be a good boy."

"Fuck," Wufei muttered under his breath. To be honest, he was curious. What was in all those boxes? Were they all for him?

"Strip!" Zechs clapped his hands.

Wufei flushed. “Um . . .” 

"Now."

With a shrug, Wufei just gave in. He’d gotten used to just giving in; things went smoother that way, and he could save what precious little energy he had left, if he did so. He carefully placed his tunic on the bed. 

"Zechs?"

"Hm?"

"He will let me keep it, right?" Wufei rubbed the white silk between his thumb and forefinger.

Zechs laid a hand on his shoulder. "You heard him say as much himself. He can deny you nothing. Now, try this on." Zechs held up a black two-piece tuxedo—tailored sharply at the waist, with a crisp edge along the neck and long, sleek pants. It all looked really, really damned expensive. 

Wufei caught his breath. "That’s for me?"

Zechs nodded. "Nice, isn’t it? Only the best!"

"But—But how did he know my size?"

Zechs eyes shifted for a moment. "Um, it could be on your records . . . or it could be because staring at you has become his favorite pastime,” he mumbled. “Let’s see if he guessed right?"

Wufei had no idea what to make of that, so he slipped into the pants, which were slightly snug at his inner thighs, but this, apparently, was a good thing, considering the way Zechs stared. Zechs’ eyes traveled over his naked abdomen. "Shirt!" 

Wufei tucked in the white dress shirt. Zechs helped him with his cufflinks and tied a black satin bow low enough on his throat that it didn’t interfere with his choker. "And now the final touch. Let’s hope this works . . ."

The ebony jacket clung to Wufei, a perfect fit, like a silhouette. As Wufei looked at himself in the mirror, Zechs stood behind him and buttoned up his jacket. 

He looked elegant, masculine, and sexy. He simply couldn’t believe it. 

Zechs slipped the hair tie off and his hair fell down to his shoulders, rogue wisps resting on his cheeks. The blond smiled and bent over for another box. "Shoes. Spit-shined by yours truly."

"Wow. Thank you, Milliard."

Zechs kneeled and help him into the shoes, then tied them up. "There we are. Not quite regulation yet though, soldier." Zechs picked up the last box. "Would you do the honors?"

Wufei pulled the blue ribbon loose and the box lid fluttered off. Inside there was a pink rose bud. "A rose?"

"A boutonniere," Zechs corrected.

"I’m not a damned woman," Wufei spit out. “I don’t need to wear flowers; I'll look ridiculous.”

Zechs held up a finger. "Don’t be so quick to sneer at this, Wufei. In Treize’s culture, flowers are like a secret language. Different flowers communicate different things. A rose is a symbol, sure as any banner . . . Do you know what a pink rose means?"

"No . . ."

Zechs paused. "It means ‘a young and innocent love.’ By wearing this, and your necklace, Treize is showing his guests that you are both his, and treasured. Wearing this will keep you protected you. There’s no need to fear—”

"What makes you think I’m afraid?” Wufei said quietly.

Zechs sighed. "Are you not nervous that these people will reject you? You are, after all, a former Gundam pilot. An enemy; like myself. You probably attacked the homes and bases of many of the visitors here tonight."

Wufei shrugged. "So? It was war."

"You do not worry about their animosity?"

"I expect it. It doesn’t make me nervous one bit," he lied. "I don’t care for their good opinion—"

"Why are you nervous then?" Zechs slipped the question in casually.

"Because Treize . . ." Wufei looked up. 

"Ah. Treize."

Wufei shook his head. "My master . . . I’m not sure if I can . . ."

"I see. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of Treize."

"I’ve been humiliated enough in his presence for one lifetime." Wufei grimaced.

Zechs chuckled. "I know what you mean. Do not worry, Wufei; I have a feeling that if you just be yourself, it's enough to impress Treize. It has worked so far, hasn’t it? Now, will you be good and put this on?"

Wufei looked at the outstretched rose for a long time. "Help me Milliard," he whispered. Zechs moved quickly and pinned the rose to Wufei’s lapel. 

"Are you ready?" Zechs offered his arm.

"As I’ll ever be." They walked out the door.

~*~

A minuet wafted out into the grand hall and up the long carpeted staircase. 

Treize paced at the bottom of the stairs like a lion in a cage. He hoped the clothes fit well. He wanted Wufei to feel as relaxed and confident as possible. It would not be easy to win over a room full of OZ officers and aristocrats, but if anyone could do it, then his little dragon would. 

All the weeks of drilling in academics, customs, and etiquette were for this very moment. Wufei’s introduction would be made by Milliard and Treize himself; they would set the tone for his reception. His people may not like his prize, but they’d best not show it. Treize was determined that Wufei would have a future in this new empire. 

Lost in thoughts, he startled at Zechs’ slight, “Ahem.”

Treize looked up. Wufei stood shyly at the top of the stairs. Slowly, the boy descended, coming to stand before him. He was exquisite. Simply exquisite.

He kissed Wufei’s hand, murmuring, "You look amazing, my dragon Fei."

Wufei blushed and drew his hand away quickly. Treize was sure to only call him dragon Fei when they were alone, and he had pleased Treize in some way. He fingered Wufei’s rose, smiling. 

“Do you like it?”

Wufei nodded, his eyes focused on Treize’s chest. Treize stood still while the boy looked at him. He wore a tuxedo of such dark blue that, in certain light, it looked black. His sandy-brown hair was trimmed in delicate waves around his face, and his cape fluttered down to his heels. He wore his medals on his left breast.

Zechs now stood beside Wufei, barely suppressing a grin. Treize blinked, and stopped tracing Wufei’s boutonniere. "Indeed, you are an amazing creature, Wufei. Shall we go in? Our guests are waiting."

~*~

Wufei forced himself to breathe deeply as he reached for Treize’s arm. Zechs caught his hands, however, and motioned him to go to the ballroom behind Treize. 

Inwardly, he cursed himself for a fool. Clearly, he had a part to play tonight. No matter how fancy his clothes, he was still a war prize. He was nothing more than a toy. It was embarrassing. 

Wufei’s back stiffened and he held his head high as he entered the ballroom. When Treize spun around and offered his arm to Wufei, he merely looked away. Treize frowned, and for a minute, Wufei thought the general would order him to accept it.

"What is wrong, my dragonling? Will you not take my arm?"

"I would not dare to offend your guests by touching their host, my master, in such a familiar manner."

Treize’s frown deepened and he whispered, "Would you prefer I left you to handle them yourself, then?"

Wufei looked out into a sea of swirling colors. Everyone stared at him. It was chilling. Wufei didn’t look at Treize as he took the man’s arm and swallowed hard.

Treize’s frown melted and a warm, contented smile was quickly plastered on his face. "Here we go, little one."

"Don’t call me that." 

Almost immediately, people rushed forward to greet Treize. Wufei had a hard time focusing. 

“General Krushrenada, what a lovely ball this is! Even better than last year’s!"

"Thank you for inviting us tonight, General."

"Oh, General, what a charming young man! Is this the Gundam pilot?"

As if on cue, Wufei bowed politely and waited for his introduction.

Zechs said, "This is Chang Wufei from L-5. He was once the pilot of the Gundam called Shenlong.”

“Now he remains at OZ as part of a security measure to ensure long lasting peace. He is my attaché, if you will." Treize looked everyone in the eye.

Of all the things Wufei expected to be called—slave, token, sacrifice, war prize— attaché never crossed his mind. He wanted to burst out laughing; his heart ached. 

He felt like a piece of meat under inspection, as all of Treize’s officers and their wives crowded around him, wanting to get a closer look at Krushrenada’s new pet. He refused to show any weakness. He bowed to everyone as politely as possible and said as little as he could. 

" ‘Wufei,’ you said? Whatever does that name mean, I wonder?"

Wufei smiled. "It means five, madam."

"Did you really pilot Shenlong? Where is the Gundam now?"

"I do not know, sir, though I assume all Gundams were destroyed before OZ could reach them." His eyes shifted to Treize. The general, however, didn’t so much as nod. So, not destroyed, then. Probably tucked away somewhere for research.

"Weren’t you in your Gundam when OZ won the victory battle?"

"No." Wufei would not speak more on this matter and the crowd sensed this. Treize’s brows crinkled in curiosity. 

"How have you enjoyed your stay here, young man?"

He really hoped this questioning would be over soon. "Very much, madam."

"But, what do you do . . . as an attaché, I mean?"

Wufei paused. He glanced at Treize, but Treize was content to let him field this one. "General Krushrenada is generous enough to allow me tutors. I study."

"Study?"

"Greek," he said with profound sarcasm. "And Latin and French. And all other academics."

"Someday, Mister Chang will play an even more important role in keeping the peace, I am sure of it. Therefore I have undertaken his education personally," Treize explained.

Wufei was surprised. He thought Treize had merely been tutoring him as a means of playing with him, keeping him out of the way, amusing himself by teaching his dog new tricks. He never knew the general had any plans for him.

"An excellent notion, General," a handsome, though somewhat cold, man said.

"You think so?” Treize asked carefully.

"Yes. How better to conquer an enemy, but in his mind?"

Wufei, for his part, didn’t even change his breathing pattern. He’d expected the conversation to take this turn, and was actually relieved that they had finally gotten around to it. One thing he hated was waiting. Now he could take his abuse, and then dance once or twice, and run back up to the bedroom and bury himself under the covers with a good book. 

"Chang Wufei is neither an enemy, nor of a mind easily subverted, I assure you, Captain Asbury." Treize’s tone had just enough ice in it to freeze the April flowers; no one in the cluster around them missed the underlying caution in his words. 

It looked for a moment like Captain Asbury might press Treize further, but Zechs walked to the general’s side, smoothing over the situation with diplomacy and tact. "Indeed, Captain. Your victory has ensured the peace, and none of us are enemies any longer." He bowed deeply to Asbury. "You and your men are to be commended on the success of your skill." 

That was a calculated remark, for Zechs and everyone else in the room knew it had been the faster production of super weapons, and not skill, that had won the war. 

"I fear you over compliment me, dear Peacecraft," the man smiled, pointedly refusing to use a title of respect when speaking to the prince. "I think our victory had something more to do with the lack of skill in the Gundam pilots."

That had Wufei’s back arching. They could insult him all they liked, but Quatre, Trowa, Duo, and even Hiro were off limits. He opened his mouth—

"Wufei, may I have the honor of this dance?" a young woman asked. Wufei spun around to see Lieutenant Noin smiling sweetly at him. He almost climbed the walls. A woman.

Zechs beamed at her adoringly. 

Wufei tried to speak but his voice wouldn’t work. Briefly looking at Treize, who nodded his assent, he bowed to Noin and offered her his arm. 

He led Noin to the floor just as the waltz ended. The orchestra struck up a tango. He wasn’t as good at tangoing as he was at waltzing, but . . . 

Noin startled when Wufei’s arm snaked around her waist and roughly pulled her close. He locked her into a tight frame, with just enough pressure for her to spring off his every cue. They danced, and every head in the room snapped around to watch. 

Wufei was extremely grateful to have something to concentrate on, something to immerse himself in, other than painful memories and cold-blooded accusations. And Noin was gentle and unassuming. She was not like . . . She didn’t scare him, really. He even dared to look into her eyes.

"Treize has taught you well, Chang-san," she whispered.

"Thank you. But it was Zechs who taught me to tango."

“You mean Milliard? Yes, he is a fantastic dancer."

Wufei looked sharply at her. "You love him." 

Noin could not hide her shock. Wufei dipped her and then swung her about-face, finishing the next two five-counts with a fan brush to a walk-around underarm turn. 

Noin didn’t miss a beat. "In a way. We were children together."

"He is a wonderful man." 

Now she looked sharply at Wufei. "And what about our great general? What sort of man do you think he is?"

"I don’t wish to repeat it in a lady’s presence," he replied curtly.

She smiled. "You love him."

Wufei nearly fell on his face. “Woman.” He did a double-quarté, if only to shut her up. 

Noin lunged forward and smirked. "Turn about is fair play."

“Woman.” This time the word was softly whispered. 

"You do. You just don’t know it yet."

"Woman, I assure you, there’s about as much chance that I’ll fall in love with General Treize Krushrenada as there is that this collar will come off my neck. I expect that to be the day after hell freezes over."

"I see." But she didn’t look convinced.

She nodded to the general, who stood against the wall, an entourage of guests clucking away at him, but his eyes were glued to Wufei. 

"May I cut in?" came a soft, sultry voice. 

Wufei stopped dancing and looked behind him to see Zechs staring at Noin in a way that made him blush. Noin smiled radiantly.

He cleared his throat. "Um, sure. Thank you, Noin. You were a wonderful dance partner."

"You’re welcome. You’re not so bad yourself."

Wufei bowed and headed back toward the wall where his master had rooted himself; halfway across the floor, he bumped into a small girl. “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you, child?"

The girl had bright blue eyes and blonde hair; she looked up at him. "No," she replied simply.

Wufei smiled. The two stared at each other for a few moments. "Aren’t you scared of me?"

"No." She stuck her fingers in her mouth. 

"Why not?" He bent down, his hands on his knees.

" ’Cause you’re my daddy’s new pet."

Wufei frowned at the girl. She looked about three or four, but he sensed she was very mature. "What did you say?”

"I said you are my daddy’s new pet."

"Your . . . daddy’s . . . ?”

She pointed at Treize. "The general’s my dad. You can call me Marie. And I can call you ‘Dragon.’ I’m here with my nanny, and I get to dance the last dance with daddy! He said so."

"Your Treize’s . . . daughter?” He felt lightheaded. “Where have you been all this time?"

She cocked her head to the side. "I was with my nanny. I missed Daddy very much, but now that the war is over, I can seem him lots."

Wufei stood there, gaping. After a while, Marie tugged on his pants leg. “Yes?”

"I wanna dance. Dance with me?" She attempted to curtsey.

Wufei wanted to refuse, run back upstairs, and pretend the whole night wasn’t happening; but then, even the thought of going into Treize’s bedroom made his stomach turn. Marie couldn’t be more than three or four. Was the bed on which he slept the same bed on which she was conceived? Did Treize have a wife tucked away somewhere? Did he love the woman? 

He looked down at Marie. She was beautiful. Her mother must have been, too. Well. He’d never once so much as raised his voice to a child; he wouldn’t reject this one now. He bowed reverently and picked Marie up, resting her on his hip with a natural ease. 

~*~

Treize watched them; his daughter laughed and sang as Wufei twirled her around the floor, his hands resting lightly on her little back, a smile on his face, even though he was obviously uncomfortable at the ball. Marie did not warm up to most people; his dragon took even longer to trust someone. But the two seemed to hit it off immediately. Wufei actually had a way with children. Perhaps because he did not treat Marie like a child to begin with.

"How does your new prize suit you, General?" Une asked over the murmuring of the crowd.

"I could not be more satisfied, Lady Une." 

"That is excellent to hear, sir."

When the foxtrot was over, Wufei set Marie down and sent her off to play with the other children. Then he made a beeline for the balcony and quickly disappeared behind the red velvet curtains. Treize followed, breaking through the conversations around him without a second thought.

Something wasn’t quite right with Wufei. He sensed it.

~*~

Wufei walked out onto the terrace and leaned against the railing; he had not set foot out here since the day he was attacked. Even for Spring, the night air was chilly. He looked up at the stars. "I miss you guys.”

"Wufei?"

He straightened up and let his hands fall to his sides. "You have a very beautiful daughter, Treize." 

Treize smiled. "Thank you. Her mother died in childbirth; I had no where to keep her during the war."

"Of course," Wufei said, not really wanting to hear anymore.

"I was going to tell you about her, Dragon, but there wasn’t time."

Wufei looked at the older man pointedly. "I’ve only been here for three months. I understand."

Treize smiled. "Dragon, you’re very beautiful when you bitch at me, do you know that?"

"Be serious."

The general stepped close to him—so close that he could feel the older man’s body heat. "I’m not joking. You’re exquisite."

"Treize," Wufei choked out.

Treize pulled him close, so that his forehead brushed against Treize’s chin. “Yes?”

"I can’t keep this up much longer. I . . . I don’t have the energy anymore."

Treize pulled back, frowning. "What do you mean?"

Wufei blinked back tears. "Please. I have to know now. Where are my boundaries? What is expected of me? Why am I here?”

“Dragon . . .”

“Will I ever go home? What is to become of me? Are you my master or my teacher or my friend or . . . What am I to you?" Wufei wanted to sob. 

He was always so tired! Even now, he was exhausted; his limbs felt like they were made of wet sand. His breathing was erratic.

"Dragon," Treize whispered. He wrapped his arms around Wufei. "I brought you here because you have no home. No family. Nothing to return to. I brought you here because I want you safe . . . I want you near me."

"Why?"

"Because . . ." His lips brushed against Wufei’s ear. "I love you."

Wufei turned around and smacked Treize so hard across the jaw that his hand stung. He hissed "Liar!" and stomped back into the ballroom, leaving Treize on the balcony in shock. 

It didn’t take long for Treize to snap out of it; he strode after Wufei. 

Wufei stood, frozen in the middle of the ballroom floor, staring at Lady Une. His whole body was tense.

Lady Une held Marie and looked at Wufei with a smug expression. “Chang. Your master tells me you please him. I am overjoyed."

Wufei, out of reflex, fell to the floor, his palms hitting the marble with a cold smack, his head lowered. His entire body shook. 

She said, "You needn’t bow to me, Wufei. Only to your master, as we agreed, remember?"

Wufei stayed down on the floor, his eyes brimming with tears. He was beyond humiliated; he was terrified. 

"Lady!" Treize boomed. "What is the meaning of this nonsense?"

"Why, General. Just as you say. Stand up, Wufei," Une commanded.

Wufei shot up so fast he felt dizzy. Lady Une smiled at him in cold amusement. 

Treize strode forward and said very quietly, "I’m going to ask again, one more time, what does this mean?"

"Chang and I are old acquaintances. When you summoned for him, you sent me to make sure that he was properly prepared. After what you told me tonight, I assumed I had fulfilled my duties."

"Exactly how did you ‘prepare’ him, Lady?" 

Une looked down at Marie and then up at the crowd, and then pointedly looked away.

Treize looked like he was going to explode. "This was not what I wanted!"

Wufei’s mind reeled. He couldn’t breathe, and standing there in the presence of Une and all the other guests, who were just staring at him, he shivered, suddenly cold. Blood trickled out of his nose. 

He sank to the floor silently, vaguely aware of Treize’s warm hands steadying him, easing him gently back up. His heart hurt; he felt weak. He slipped suddenly into darkness . . .

~*~

Treize asked Noin to watch over Marie and make some excuse for his guests, and then begged Milliard to help him get Wufei up the stairs. "Une!" he barked. "Follow me!"

He rushed into his rooms and placed Wufei on the bed. He undid the boy’s tie and the first few buttons of his shirt. 

Wufei had a fever, a very severe fever, and he trembled slightly. Blood slide over his lips, down his chin. Treize didn’t look up when he heard the Milliard and Une come into the room. He reached for the phone and dialed seven-seven, and said, "I need a doctor up here. Now." He slammed the phone down and turned, expression utterly feral. 

"Une. What have you done?"

She cringed. "Krushrenada-sama, only as you asked. I simply prepared the boy for life as your slave."

Treize snapped his fingers. "Quickly, what did that entail?"

"Um, various things, sir. How to treat you, how to kneel and how to address you, how to please and service you, how to serve various meals—"

"Stop! Go back! What do you mean how to ‘service’ me?" Treize’s voice betrayed very little feeling. But he would kill Une in cold blood if she didn’t watch her step. 

Milliard, to his credit, said nothing to warn the lady, and merely moved closer to the bed to check on the boy.

"I had him trained. To please you sexually. In case you were ever so inclined-—"

"You had him raped?" Treize ground out, fists clenching.

Une’s hand flew to her throat. "He resisted at first, sir, but after the implant—“

"IMPLANT!" Milliard and Treize screamed.

Une backed away. "Yes, the implant. A small device put in the boy’s left arm; it releases a depressant every couple of hours, to keep him from fighting too much . . . I . . . I thought you said you found him agreeable, sir . . .?"

Treize towered over Une. He had never struck a woman before in his life. He struck one now. 

Une’s eyes filled with tears; she looked utterly heartbroken.

"Never,” he hissed. “Never in my life as anyone ever caused me to lose my self-control, as you have just now. I don’t know whether to throttle you here or save it for the firing squad."

"Treize,” Milliard said softly. "You need to calm down. Wufei needs you right now. You have to be calm to help Wufei."

He turned back around. "Yes, Milliard. You’re right, of course. Except I don’t know how I can ever make up for . . ." His shoulders shook.

The blond nodded. "Let’s just start with the doctors removing the implant."

Treize tilted his head around. "Une. Tell me we can remove it without hurting the boy!"

"Of course, General. I left that option open," she whispered, "in case you wanted him to resist. I only thought to please you . . ."

Treize wrinkled his nose. “You’re disgusting. Get out of my sight. You are no longer welcome at OZ and if you ever come near my daughter—"

"General Krushrenada! We’re here!" Two young men in white labcoats rushed into the room. They looked at the boy on the bed and started toward him. 

"Leave," Treize said to Une. "This is my way of rewarding you for years of loyal service. If I ever see you again, you’re dead, Une." He turned to face the doctors.

Une looked at Milliard in an appeal for his support, but all she got from him hwas a cold frown and arms folded across a very tight chest. Defeated, she walked out of the room.

Treize swallowed thickly. "The boy had an implant of some sort in his left arm. I should have noticed it sooner. It’s been affecting him all along . . .You must remove it as soon as possible."

Even as Treize spoke, one doctor ran his fingers over the small incision on Wufei’s arm. The other doctor took Wufei’s vitals. They looked at each other and then at Treize. 

The one checking Wufei’s pulse said, "He is very weak, sir. His fever is dangerously high and I’m loath to operate on someone with such a weak pulse to begin with. However, it might be the implant that’s effecting him, and therefore we need to operate as soon as possible."

The other doctor looked up. "It’s a coin toss, either way, sir. We’ll do whatever you say, but, the chances aren’t very good. He’ll probably have permanent of some kind from the drugs, to say nothing of the psychological . . ."

Treize shuddered. "Do whatever you have to. Get it out of him. If he’s going to die, he can at least do so as himself . . . and not as some damned puppet . . ."

Milliard gripped Treize’s arm. "Treize. Have faith. He made it through the entire war . . . he won’t be beaten by a silly little fever. The boy’s been orphaned, widowed, conquered, raped, and sold to the enemy, and still managed to be a pain in your ass. I think he can survive this. Right?" Milliard was afraid. Treize could hear it in his voice.

He rubbed his temple. "Yes, of course. If anyone can survive this, my dragon can. Let’s get him to the infirmary.”

He lifted Wufei up—he was so thin, so frail; how had he not noticed?

~*~


	5. Chapter 5

Zechs expected Treize to pace the waiting room and bark commands at the orderlies. He expected the general to rant about Une and maybe even knock something over in a fit of rage. He expected his old friend to morph into the cold, deadly commander he’d known during the war.

He never expected Treize to react the way he did.

Treize sat in an ugly pink chair and stared out into space. He looked old. He had not blinked, twitched, or shifted in way too long. His eyes were hollow. His mouth formed one single thin line. 

This wasn’t shutting down in self-defense, and it wasn’t about self-control. Treize was sinking into depression and madness. Zechs knew; he’d been there himself.

He repeatedly attempted to engage Treize in conversation, but even if he’d smacked the man across the face, there’d be no getting through. He’d never seen Treize like this, and it scared him. Treize had always held it together, always had a plan. If something didn’t work out, then he took it in stride. Tried again. Treize never retreated to silence and detachment.

Zechs paced the room; he got himself a cup of water, took a sip, threw it out, picked up a magazine, leafed through it, hurled it at the wall, rubbed his eyes, looked over at Treize, and sighed. 

He hated feeling so helpless.

Poor Wufei. To endure so much, all before the age of sixteen, and to never once complain about it. Zechs respected the boy even more, knowing that.

He understood why Treize loved the young man: he was intelligent, exotic, honorable, and he’d tried so hard to hide his pain . . . He was valiant. Just like Treize. 

Zechs saw where the two fit, and so rather than be jealous of the attention his former lover showered on the boy, he encouraged it. Wufei was good for Treize. Treize desperately needed the distraction. He needed his opinions challenged and his orders obeyed; he needed someone in his life that wasn’t trying to manipulate or crush him. He needed someone with passion, but also a healthy dose of common sense. 

But now, what would happen between Treize and Wufei? Would the boy ever forgive him? Could Treize ever forgive himself? 

One of the doctors bustled through the operating room doors and walked up to Treize. The light returned to Treize’s eyes and he stood at attention. Treize unconsciously reached out and touched the blood splattered on the man’s apron and scrubs. 

"How is he, Doctor?"

"It’s still too early to say, sir. The implant was rooted very deeply into the muscle and nerves; I think it was . . . growing into him. But I don’t believe the device was working properly . . . I’ve never seen an implant like this before, sir, but it appears to have broken—or rather, leaked. The overdose of whatever chemicals were inside could be the cause for the boy’s fainting and odd behavior."

"But you got it out?"

"Yes, sir, but . . . Well–"

"Out with it, damn it!"

The doctor squared his shoulders. "It was a messy business, sir. We tried not to tear the triceps, but there will be some damage. Also . . . he’s lost some blood. We’ve been streaming more into him, of course, but if I could have his file, I could give him his blood type match, instead of O."

"His blood is A positive, like mine. Take mine," Treize said.

"Sir, we have blood in the banks—"

"That was not a request, Doctor."

"Yes, sir . . . though I should warn you, he’ll probably need more than you can donate, and we’ll have to screen yours of course . . ." the orderly looked nervous, afraid he’d insulted the general.

Treize didn’t blink. "Naturally. Just do this as quickly as you can."

The doctor nodded. "If you’ll follow me."

Zechs accompanied Treize into a small room where a petite nurse swabbed Treize’s elbow with alcohol.

"Doctor?" Zechs asked. "I have some questions of my own."

"Yes, Marquise-sama. . . I mean, Mister Peacecraft?"

"Is the other doctor the only one operating on Mister Chang at this time?"

"Oh no, sir. We have a whole team attending to the general’s pet."

Treize winced at the word “pet,” just at the nurse stuck the needle in. 

"There, there, sir. I didn’t think you would be afraid of needles!" She giggled.

"And at this time," Zechs continued, "what can you say of his condition?"

"Frankly, sir, not much. The implant is being tested. We suspect a heavy depressant was used, to periodically release when the digital timer inside the device went off. Different people’s immune systems respond in various ways under certain stimuli. It’s still unclear whether Wufei was ill because his body rejected the substance, or whether the implant broke and gave him an overdose of the depressant. It’s also unclear how Wufei’s nervous system and by extension, his immune system, will react to the sudden lack of the substance’s presence." The doctor smiled, apparently pleased with himself that he could get all that out in one breath. 

"Do you mean that he could die?" Treize asked in a cold voice.

The doctor looked at Treize. "It is very possible that his body will react negatively and just shut down. But, I don’t think that will happen, sir."

"Why not?" Treize asked.

"Paging Doctor Klineta to the OR, STAT!" the overhead speaker spat out.

The doctor dashed through the door. Treize got up to follow him and nearly ripped the tube out of his arm, much to the nurse’s dismay. 

"Treize," Zechs began.

"If he dies, Milliard . . ."

Zechs looked closely at Treize. He carefully lowered the man back to his seat. “I know.”

~*~

Half an hour later, Treize’s blood pack made its way into the operating room. A female doctor came out and squatted on the waiting room floor, stretching her legs and rolling her head in circles.

She smiled at the two tired, haggard men, standing there, still in their tuxedos. "He’s doing really well. We’re pumping the blood into him now. Then we’ll sew him back up and see what a few days of rest will do."

Treize searched her face. "You mean, he’s going to be all right?"

"Yeah. It was scary for a moment there; we lost his heartbeat. But Doctor Klineta did CPR—we didn’t even need the crash kit. It came back much stronger. Pretty fascinating.” 

Treize lifted a shaking hand to his head. “Fascinating . . .”

“Treize?” Zechs touched Treize’s elbow. 

"Milliard!" the general croaked. He pulled Zechs into a crushing hug, pressing his lips to Zechs’ shoulder. "Oh, dear friend." 

Zechs sighed, his own eyes stinging with tears. "I’ve never seen you cry, in all our years together," he murmured.

"I’m sorry." Treize pieced himself back together.

Zechs cupped the older man’s face. "Don’t be. I’m very glad—that you can. Cry, I mean. That you can care . . . Love . . ."

Treize frowned. "I loved you, Milliard."

Zechs stood frozen to the floor. 

Treize whispered in his ear, "And I cried the day you left me; the day we became enemies . . . I was so afraid that you would die at my hands . . ."

"Treize . . . What are you saying? You love Wufei," Zechs said, distressed.

Treize pulled back. "Yes. Does that hurt you, my friend?"

Zechs swallowed. "A little,” he said honestly. “But, I want you to be together . . . if you can. And besides, there’s someone else . . ."

Treize smiled. "Does that someone wear a tight black dress and dance a mean tango?"

Zechs blushed. 

Treize grinned and said, "Perhaps I should assign Lieutenant Noin to the Ambassador Program, and have her represent OZ in all of your fine, fancy meetings, Mister Peacecraft."

Zechs' eyes widened. "That would be an excellent notion, sir!"

Treize hugged him, then pulled away sheepishly, flicking imaginary lint off of his tuxedo. Zechs brushed his hair back. The hospital staff just stared at them.

Doctor Klineta walked into the room and cleared his throat. "General. The operation was a success. His vitals are in the stable range and so we’re moving him up to ICU until a bedroom can be prepared for him."

Treize rushed up to the doctor and clapped him on the back. "Well done! See to it that you take an extra month’s paid vacation every year! Now, show me where the boy’s room will be."

When the doctor recovered, he ushered them over to a map on the wall.

~*~

Wufei sighed. The darkness was stale and boring; he opened his eyes. Couldn’t quite get his jaw to work. He sighed again.

"Treize," he breathed softly.

The general’s head snapped up—he’d been resting his cheek on Wufei’s hand. "Dragon?"

Wufei licked his lips. "Treize," he whispered again. 

"I’m here. How are you?"

Wufei’s eyelashes fluttered. He sucked in air through his teeth when he tried to sit up. "Treize.”

“Don’t move.” Treize leaned over Wufei and brushed his hair back. "I’m right here, Dragon. You are safe now."

"What . . . ?"

"You were sick. Very, very sick. You’re in the hospital," Treize spoke slowly. 

"The . . ." Wufei breathed in deep and puffed out the air quickly, "hospital? Why? Didn’t I do everything right? You didn’t want it . . . you didn’t even try to . . . ! I—"

"Dragon, what are you talking about?" Treize frowned, concerned. 

Wufei babbled, "Don’t make me do it anymore. I can’t. He doesn’t want me!" He sobbed now, thrashing back and forth. "Don’t," he whined. "Don’t!"

Treize backed off, stopped hovering. "Wufei," he said softly. "Wufei. Come back. Focus. You are in a hospital bed here at my base. It’s me, Treize. No one is going to hurt you . . . anymore."

Wufei opened his eyes and the panic disappeared. "Treize?" 

"I’m right here, little one."

"Don’t call me that," he said reflexively. 

Treize smiled. "Yes, Wufei."

"It’s really you?" He reached up and touched the general’s face. 

Treize looked like he might cry; but of course, that was impossible. "Yes, it’s me. I’m here now, Dragon. You fainted at the ball; do you remember?"

Everything came rushing back at once. He blanched. "I’m sorry, Master . . . Lady Une . . .” 

"That bitch," Treize ground through his teeth, "has been dealt with, I assure you. I have learned something of your treatment while you were being transported to this base. All I can say is that I will endeavor to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Wufei."

Wufei frowned. "You mean . . . you didn’t order it?"

Treize shook his head. “I’m not even sure what happened to you.”

He looked at the older man for a long time. “You probably don’t want to know.”

“You were . . . She said that you were trained to . . . s-service me . . . sexually.”

His shoulders hunched. He looked out the window at the streams of bright sunshine. “She raped me. She had the soldiers . . . teach me how to . . . to . . . suck . . .”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to say,” Treize assured. “Not to me. But I do want to enroll you in counseling, Wufei. I’ll have my way on that.”

Wufei shrugged. After everything, it probably couldn’t hurt. “I don’t like hospitals. When . . . when I was . . . when I resisted, she would have me go to the infirmary and they would . . . they did something to me, I don’t know . . . I’m tired,” he blurted.

“I understand.” Treize stroked his hand. “I can have a psychiatrist meet with you in one of the palace rooms; it will be private and not quite so . . . clinical. But you will speak with someone about . . . well, everything.”

“I’m glad you didn’t order it,” he said in a tiny voice. “I couldn’t understand why you would . . . and then not do anything with me . . . But I didn’t want to bring it up and . . .”

Treize looked ill. “I had no idea. I’d never imagined she would . . . Wufei, I brought you here because you had no where else to go after the war. I wanted to make sure you were safe. It appears I delivered you into the worst possible situation."

Wufei reached up again, cupping the general’s face. "Thank you. I didn’t want to believe . . . that you could be that kind of person . . ."

Treize kissed his hand.

"How . . . did you find out?" he asked, feeling a little nervous.

"Une told me, after you collapsed. You got sick because the implant in your arm broke. Dragon, why didn’t you tell me about it?”

"What implant? What are you saying?" Wufei fought down the urge to panic. “She didn’t make me into a bomb, did she?” he whispered.

Treize frowned. “What?”

“I’m not dangerous, am I?” He struggled to sit up.

“No, I’m talking about the device in your arm,” Treize said, soothing him back down.

Wufei clutched his hand. “All I remember was . . . Laoshi O said you ordered me taken prisoner. I thought I was going to be tried for war crimes. When Une came, she told me . . . that I was," he gulped, "going to be your wh-whore . . . and then they took me to a lab . . .” He shivered. "The scientists were all women; the soldiers were men." Tears streamed down his face and onto his white scrubs. “I’m so disgusting,” he strained out.

Treize sat on the bed, wrapped his arms around Wufei, and rocked him back and forth, murmuring to him as he had done before, after the incident in the garden. But this time, Wufei wasn’t on any depressants, and he was shaking with uncontrolled rage.

"Get off me! Get the fuck off me! Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever fucking touch me again! You had no right; none of you did, you OZ scum! Go to hell!" Wufei thrashed weakly at Treize through his tears. "Fuck you! FUCK YOU! Who do you think you are, General? How many people have had to suffer for you, you . . . Get off me! I’m so . . . dirty . . .”

Wufei began pulling the I.V.s out of his wrists and elbows. Treize tried to pin him down, but that just made him struggle more intensely.

The older man quickly got up and stepped back. "Calm down, Wufei! You’ll hurt yourself!" 

"What difference does it make?! Get out! GET OUT NOW! "

His screams were more like howls; the nurses came running. They pushed Treize out of the room and closed the door. Wufei shook, sobbed. He cursed at the women and continued to pull at the I.V.s until he was given a shot to calm down. 

It had very little effect. They gave him another half-dose before he actually quieted, and then, it was a restless, lucid sort of stillness; a false calm . . . the eye of the storm. 

~*~

A week passed and Treize had not come to see him. Zechs did not visit, because he had been on some diplomatic mission, Noin had said. Noin stopped by to drop off flowers; a big huge bouquet of yellow roses. Wufei wanted to ask Zechs what they meant when the blond returned. 

Wufei was bored. Very, very bored. 

He’d counted the holes in the ceiling three times, a little dismayed that he came up with a different number each time. His arms and legs ached, but he didn’t feel like getting out of bed to exercise. He thought of the other pilots, and tried to go over his Latin and French exercises, conveniently forgetting to do his Greek. But these things only made him think of Treize, and that made his heart ache.

He had treated the other man so rudely. He had slapped him. He had told him to fuck off and accused him orchestrating of his rapes, as well as blamed him for all the suffering because of the war. He didn’t really expect to see the man after that. Still . . . he had hoped . . .

He wondered what the general would do now. Let him go, probably. Nobody wanted damaged goods. Wufei didn’t know how to find the other pilots. Well, maybe Quatre would go back to the Winer mansion, if the five of them were granted all-clear by OZ. If not, they were most likely undercover on some backwater planets and Wufei didn’t have a prayer of finding them. 

He’d only get in their way, anyway. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. He was broken.

OZ had won the war.

Wufei spiraled into a deep depression. On the sixth day, he refused to eat anything, and merely stared out the window. He said nothing, ate nothing, and did nothing, for hours. 

On the seventh day, he startled when his hospital door banged open. 

"Hello, Dragon! How are you feeling today?" boomed Treize’s cheery voice. 

Wufei stared at the man as if he had three heads.

"Are you still wearing that cotton thing? Tsk tsk. We’ll have to take you shopping sometime with Zechs, and we’ll teach you the basics of fashion. Would you like that?" Treize didn’t give the boy time to answer as he whipped out a huge bouquet of tiger lilies. "Here you are. They came all the way from China, Mister Chang, so you’d better be impressed!"

Wufei took the flowers, abashed. He looked at the bright oranges and yellows speckled with black dots, then held them close to his chest. "You . . . are not angry with me?"

Treize shook his head. "Yes. I’m furious, Dragon! I hear you’re not eating!"

"Wh-what?"

"You’re not eating! How can you hope to keep up with your lessons, if you don’t regain your strength?" Treize shrugged as if this was obvious.

"Huh?"

"Have you forgotten how to articulate in my absence, Dragon? I’m telling you, you must eat, and grow strong, because I challenge you."

Wufei blinked. "Excuse me? You ‘challenged’ me?"

Treize removed one of his white gloves and brushed it across Wufei’s left cheek erotically. "There. It’s official. We must have a duel. You and I will fence, everyday, until you build your left arm up. Then, when you are ready, we will have a real duel."

Wufei leaned forward, his curiosity piqued for the first time in a week. "And if you win?"

"Then you must continue to duel with me everyday until you do win," Treize said good-naturedly.

Wufei’s lips curled. "And if I win?"

"What would you like?"

"My freedom," he said immediately. 

Treize frowned for a long time. "How about a compromise? If you win, then you may go off the base during the day, while I am in meetings and the like. But you must return at night."

"Why?"

"Because you gave your word when you came that you would not try to leave."

"No. I said I would not try to escape. You never said I couldn’t earn my freedom."

"I never gave it as an option either." Treize’s face was a mixture of stern anger and fear. 

Wufei huffed. "Am I still your trophy then, General?"

Treize walked over to Wufei and leaned down until they were nose to nose. "No, Wufei. Haven’t you figured it out yet?" he whispered. "I’m yours.” He quickly kissed the corner of Wufei’s mouth and whirled around to retrieve his coat. "Tomorrow, we will move you back up to our room. You will still need your rest, but I think your mind is up for some lessons. And be sure to eat!"

Wufei’s mind, at the moment, was still spinning from the kiss. 

"And Wufei?"

"Yes, Master?"

Treize’s shoulders slumped. "Just ‘Treize.’ "

"Treize."

"Count to one hundred."

"Un, deux, trios . . ."

"In Greek," Treize said as he turned the doorknob. 

A pillow hit the back of Treize’s head, but he kept walking as if he’d never felt it, like he didn’t have a huge smile plastered all over his face.

“Eis, duo, treis . . .” Wufei counted as Treize shut the door.

~*~

The boy moved back upstairs and into their bedroom the next day. Treize was glad; he’d missed him. And he was sure that Wufei appreciated being out of that damned hard bed and back in a room with books and huge windows and a balcony and . . . no nurses. 

Days passed quietly. Wufei got a better, bit by bit. He was able to walk and lift his arm and hold down his food.

At the moment, Wufei sat Indian-style on the soft Persian rug in front of the fireplace, trying to meditate.

Treize shut the door quietly. "Am I disturbing your exercises?"

"No," Wufei said simply.

He smiled. "I have a present for you."

Wufei’s eyes snapped open, but he didn’t otherwise move.

"Aren’t you curious what it is?"

Wufei sniffed; Treize bit his lip. His little one was dying to know. 

Treize held up a long katana, sheathed in a black scabbard with a single thread of gold wound around the top. He knelt before Wufei and held the sword out with his head slightly bowed, in the traditional manner. 

The boy was shocked, but he quickly took the gift and bowed back. 

Treize said nothing, just watching him intently. 

Wufei examined the tsuba, the circular hand-guard, which was decorated with smooth black pearls. The hilt was gold-plated; it had slight grip-impressions for Wufei’s slender fingers. He unsheathed the blade and gaped at the engraving of a Chinese dragon, which draped itself around the silvery metal in an intricate spiral. "Treize,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful . . ."

"Happy Birthday."

"Huh?” The boy blinked. “Treize, my birthday isn’t until—Oh shit, it’s my birthday!"

Treize decided to let the cursing go, for the moment. "Do you like it, dragon Fei?"

The boy blushed prettily. "It’s . . . Yes, Treize. I’ve never held anything so expensive in my hands before . . . I can’t possibly accept it."

"In my culture, to refuse a gift is an insult. Besides, you will need it. Remember?" Treize brushed Wufei’s cheek with his glove.

"Oh. Right."

"Also,” Treize said carefully. “Your friends have sent you a package. It’s in the hall. I’ll get it for you, if you wish . . ."

Wufei’s mouth hung open. It was ridiculously adorable.

Treize left and returned with a big cardboard box. "Here you go. Can you open it yourself?"

"They . . . they remembered!" Wufei swallowed. “And, they won’t be tracked? I mean, you won’t . . . the other pilots aren’t . . .”

“Enemies of OZ?” Treize shrugged. “I don’t mean to underestimate your friends, Wufei, but without their Gundams or any rebel organization funding them, they’re not much of a threat. OZ officially considers them former soldiers on the opposing side, not terrorists, so . . . They live free, normal lives. Provided they never touch weapons again. Especially Hiro.” He cleared his throat, shuddering. “As to their being tracked, well, to be honest . . . Their whereabouts are well known to us, at all times. You understand why, I’m sure . . . ?”

Wufei smiled and quirked his eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well . . . no.” He shrugged. “Actually, we can only seem to keep dibs on the Winer boy.” Treize smiled. “The rest of you are too good at going to ground, but we do catch glimpses here and there.”

The boy nodded. “Thought so.”

"Here are the scissors. I’ll leave you be; this is a private thing.” Treize paused. “If you have anything you wish to send to them . . . letters and such . . . let me know. I’ll arrange it." He turned to go.

"Treize?"

He turned back around, his hand hovering over the knob.

" . . . Thank you."

Treize bowed deeply and simply said, "You’re welcome," as he left.

~*~

After Treize closed the door, Wufei jumped up and ripped into the box. He was being childish, but he didn’t give a crap. He had never gotten birthday presents before and it would be so nice to hear from everyone! He tossed through all the Styrofoam shells and white tissue paper, until he found four oddly wrapped gifts and a card. He opened it carefully, recognizing Quatre’s elegant handwriting.

Dear Wufei—

We hope this card finds you well. We are not sure if you will ever receive this package, but ever the optimist, Duo insisted we try. If you do get this letter, could you write us back? Trowa and I would so like to hear how you are doing, and also, to invite you to our bonding ceremony this June, if you can come. We miss you very, very much. We hope you like your gifts—Happy Birthday, love Quatre W.

Wu-chan! Heya freak! How’s life in that plush palace of yours? I bet you got lots of servants running around in there. Dude, I HAVE to tell you this! Trowa got his HAIR CUT for the wedding! You can actually see his eyes! He has two!!! You GOTTA come see it. Oh yea, me ‘n’ Hiro are sorta together. You’ll never guess how that happened. Let’s just say the perfect soldier can’t hold his liquor. All I can say, is there was a penguin suit involved and a high speed motorcycle chase and, wow he’s a good kisser! OK. Never mind. Anyway, it was very romantic and now here’s Hiro, who by the way, is a really good kisser, in case I failed to mention that. Happy birthday! Love D!

Wufei. I trust you are in good health; otherwise, you're probably dead and writing this is pointless. I took the liberty of erasing some unnecessary details concerning my relationship with Duo in the paragraph above. I was assured that OZ was treating you well, however, if anything needs killing, you can reach us at the Winer estate. Congratulations on being born and not dying yet. We hope. Hiro.

Wufei-kun. It’s Trowa. Are you well? Please do write back if you can, and let us know that you are all right. And if you can, come to our bonding ceremony. You will be our guest of honor: the man who brought the world peace. Happy birthday, Wufei-kun. Yours very truly, Tro.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Wufei smiled. So Trowa and Quatre were finally tying the knot. He was happy for them.

And apparently Duo had finally gotten Hiro to unclench a little. 

He hoped Treize would let him out for the wedding. He would just have to best him in a duel; then he could probably negotiate a day trip to the Winer estate. 

He carefully placed the card on the table, then picked up his presents. He took up Quatre’s first; it was a very old book on Taoism. 

Next he "unwrapped" Hiro’s, which basically entailed unwinding the silver duct-tape from his present. It looked like a little letter opener, but it was really a slender dagger. Leave it to Hiro to smuggle a weapon into OZ. 

He moved on to Duo’s gift, tearing the comic strip wrapping paper to shreds. He opened the box and blushed as he pulled out a black leather G-string. "Maxwell!" He paled.

Then he opened Trowa’s gift, which had been wrapped in plain brown paper. It was a CD of taiko drum music. Wufei gathered all the gifts to him and hugged them as if they were his friends.

Just then, a knock on the door. "Wufei?"

"Yes, Treize, come in."

The older man peered around the door. "How are you feeling?"

"Um . . . a little . . ." Wufei couldn’t look away. He was tearing up. "It’s just that no one’s ever . . . gotten me a birthday gift before." He shrugged.

"Really?" Treize paused. "Well, you’re sixteen now right? So that makes fifteen presents you’re entitled to. Milliard and I will definitely have to take you shopping, as soon as you are well."

Wufei smiled. "I . . . I don’t have any place for these." He motioned to the gifts.

Treize walked across the room and opened the highboy; he removed some articles of clothing. "Here. This will be your space. Put anything you like in it, and I won’t go looking, I promise. Just, no bombs or anything." 

Wufei stood to put his gifts away, but swayed unsteadily. Treize took his arm, guiding him back to bed. The older man took the gifts from Wufei, but Wufei held up a hand. "Can I . . . this is stupid, but, can I sleep with them around me? Please?"

"Of course, Dragon." Treize piled the bounty around Wufei—raising an eyebrow at the dagger, and then both eyebrows at the G-string—and then nestled Wufei under the covers.

“That’s a gag gift,” Wufei said.

“Of course it is.” Treize tucked the blankets under his chin.

"Treize?"

"Yes, Dragon?"

"My sword?"

Treize smiled. He laid the sword on his side of the mattress. "There you go. All your treasures. Now, get some sleep."

"Treize?"

"Yes, Dragon?" the older man asked patiently.

"Read me the Taoism thing?"

Treize nodded. He stretched out over the covers and cracked open the old book. He laughed. "Wufei? I can’t read Chinese . . ."

Wufei was half-asleep already. "Really? That simply won't do!" He fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

~*~

"Harder, Dragon! You hold back too much!" 

Wufei lunged at Treize with all his might, but Treize parried easily and threw him to the ground. He sat there, his nose pressed to the training room floor, grimacing. Treize had used Wufei’s own weight to unbalance him.

"Fuck!"

"Wufei."

"I mean ‘drat, curses, oh darn!’ "

Treize pulled Wufei up and spun him around, squeezing Wufei’s arms gently. "You are becoming unbalanced, Wufei," he whispered, "because you are too focused on my blade, and not on me." Treize lifted the boy’s left arm, for they were practicing in traditional stance, which, due to his surgery, Wufei didn’t like. Treize insisted he learn the French way, to build up his torn muscle. 

"When I move my saber, it is to attract your attention. I never move the sword where you think it will go. That is a just a feint, a decoy. If you want to know where I will thrust or parry, look to my shoulder, from whence the movement comes. That is how I always won in the past, dragon Fei. Your shoulders gave you away every time. Learn to master this, and we are equals."

Wufei listened intently, trying to ignore the wonderful scent of Treize's cologne. "If I do master this, and I beat you, I have a request."

"I will not let you go."

Wufei looked up at the older man. "Just for one day. For one very important day!"

Treize searched his face. "Why?"

"Quatre and Trowa are getting married. They want me to be the guest of honor. It said so in the letter; I can prove I’m not lying. I just want to go to their wedding and then I promise I’ll come right back. You have my word of honor!"

Treize sighed deeply. "Very well. If you win, you may go. Only long enough for the wedding and reception and then you must come right back."

Wufei smiled brilliantly, tumbling into Treize’s arms. "Thank you, Treize! You don’t know what is means to me!"

"What what means to you?" a familiar voice asked.

"Milliard!" the men chorused. 

Wufei walked over to him. "Look, Milliard! I got a sword from Treize for my birthday! See, look, it’s got a dragon on it and pearls and everything.” He stopped, chagrined. “Geez, I sound like Marie!"

Zechs smiled and placed his arm around Wufei. "No, even Marie doesn’t get quite that excited. It’s a beautiful present, worthy of its owner. But I, too, come bearing gifts, Wufei."

"You do?"

"Of course! I wouldn’t forget your birthday!" Zechs cried indignantly. "There you are. I didn’t have time to wrap it, sorry."

Zechs held up a large clear stone with a single red rose embedded in the middle. 

Wufei frowned. He didn’t want to be rude, but . . . "You got me a paperweight?"

Zechs and Treize laughed until there were tears in their eyes. "No, no, Wufei,” Zechs explained. “This is a very special stone, for sharpening swords. You can sharpen your katana on it."

"You knew I was getting a sword?"

"Of course; we were always partners in crime before, weren’t we, Treize?" Zechs said to the general as they embraced warmly. 

Wufei prickled just slightly, but he tamped down on it. "Zechs, what does a yellow rose mean? Noin got me some when I was in the hospital."

Zechs blinked. "Yellow means friendship.”

"And red?"

Treize cornered Wufei, his hands behind his back. He whispered, "It means love, Wufei. Passionate love. A red rose is my family’s crest. Now, thank our good friend here, get your pert little ass back on the strip and en guard!

Wufei blushed and bowed to thank Zechs, then put the stone carefully on the floor and hiked over to the strip. He got into position. Zechs stood on the sidelines.

"Fencers ready?" Zechs called.

"Sir!" they answered.

"Fence!"

Wufei learned quickly; he was determined to keep up with Treize. However, Treize had more energy, greater strides, and he took control easily. Wufei knew he was going to lose. He was surprised when Treize held up a hand for a time-out.

"Why?" He stared up at the general.

"You are tiring. Besides, it is time for dinner. And afterwards, if you feel up to it, I should like to hear you and the good ambassador play something . . ."

They saluted Zechs and each other, and began to put away their gear.

“How was your trip with Lieutenant Noin?” Treize asked the blond casually, as he shrugged off his jacket. 

Zechs smiled. “Extremely satisfying.”

Treize paused, grinning. “Was it?”

“How are things going here?”

The older man just nodded. 

~*~

The weeks passed without much fuss. Wufei studied, fenced with Treize, went to therapy, had dinner with Zechs and some of the other officers, and at night, returned to the room to sit on the floor and listen to Treize read aloud. Sometimes, he would rest his head on Treize’s thigh and the older man would stroke his hair. 

However, he healed slowly. Wufei was impatient to get strong and win a fencing match; he didn’t want to miss his chance to see his friends. 

That was why, today at least, Wufei attacked Treize with gusto. The conventional rules went right out the window. Wufei was all over the room, on and off the strip, tumbling, swinging, even using some martial arts moves, if that gained him an advantage. 

Treize, for his part, seemed happy just to see Wufei with so much energy. 

"Touché!" Wufei shouted. 

Treize looked down at his breast, where the tip of Wufei’s katana rested. 

The boy stepped back and then, with barely a nod, came at him again, sword raised high. Treize stood there, enthralled. Then he toppled over, sprawled on the ground, with Wufei’s sword over his throat.

Blinking, Wufei backed off immediately and dropped his sword. "Treize?"

Treize traced a hand across his neck, a little blood trailing across his index finger. "Nice move, Dragon," he said roughly.

Wufei dropped to his knees and put his hands on the general’s chest. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I hit you . . ." Wufei swallowed.

"It’s all right, Dragon; it doesn’t hurt. Really. I’m fine."

"I hit you!" Wufei whispered. He grabbed Treize’s arm and pulled him to his feet.

"It was a nice move. It’s illegal in competition, but, if this were a real duel, you’d have had me . . ."

Wufei lowered his head. "I . . . it was dishonorable of me, to draw your blood like that."

Treize smirked. "What’s one more drop, Dragon? You already have a whole pint!"

He frowned, confused. "What?"

"Oh . . .” Treize swallowed. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t wish to upset you. When you had your operation, you lost a lot of blood. I donated some . . . so, um, I hope . . . I hope that doesn’t upset you . . ."

Wufei blinked. "You gave me your blood?"

"Yes. I know keeping the Clan’s bloodline pure is important to your culture, but, I couldn’t just let you die."

Wufei blinked again. "You gave me your blood," he said in a daze. Wufei got down on his knees again and bowed deeply. "I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve owed my life to you, Treize Krushrenada. How can I repay you?"

"Just don’t hate me for it," Treize murmured.

“I could never hate you, Treize," Wufei whispered. He got up and took his sword back in hand. "Shall we go again?"

"And miss your chance to gloat your victory to my dinner guests?"

"What ever are you talking about?"

"You bested me. You even drew blood. You’ve won, haven’t you?” Treize smiled. “Congratulations! Zechs and I will take you shopping. You’ll need some clothes, for the wedding, at least . . ."

"For the . . . ?" Wufei rushed up to Treize, planting a little kiss on the man’s cheek. 

Treize just blinked.

Wufei flushed. He picked up his equipment and made to run out of the gym.

"Where are you going? What about dinner!"

"I haven’t time, Treize! I have to pack and write them a letter!" Wufei called back as he dashed out of the room.

"He really is something; especially when you make him happy, Treize,” Milliard said.

Treize turned around to see the blond standing at the other set of gym doors, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his ambassador’s uniform.

"Milliard . . . I’m letting him go. For a few days."

Milliard raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I had not planned on it.” Treize sighed, wiping his neck again.

"Did you ever hear the story of the thorn birds, Treize?"

"Thorn birds? I don’t think I know that one." He packed up his kit.

"Well, I learned the legend from an ancient digi-film about this priest who had a love affair on some sheep farm in Australia. Petty boring stuff actually . . ."

"The priest had a love affair with sheep? Sounds interesting enough to me."

Milliard hit Treize playfully on the back of his head, picking up his equipment and walking Treize toward the door.

“He had an affair on a sheep farm, not with a sheep farm. Now, shut up while I impart this parable of wisdom.”

“Yes. Right. Very sorry,” Treize said, not at all sorry. 

“Anyway, halfway through the story, the priest speaks of love. And he tells the legend of the thorn birds. You see, in Australia, there used to be this kind of bird—very small, plain, homely looking things. The birds never chirp, their whole lives. Then, one day, when a bird is ready, it will fly away from its flock and go far out into the desert. It goes for days, until it reaches this special kind of tree, with thorns all over it. Then, the thorn bird begins to sing. And all the world stops, and God looks down and smiles, because it is the most beautiful sound in all creation. The bird sings for a long time, saying all the things that it held inside its whole life, putting all its love and very soul into it. And then, on the last note, which is too beautiful to bear, the bird impales its breast on a thorn, and dies. The priest said that lovers were sometimes like this bird . . . Well, the priest was saying that love is sometimes so beautiful that it kills us, but at least it gives the world the most beautiful song."

"That’s amazing, Milliard. Now, why exactly are you telling me this?"

The blond man handed Treize his bag. "Because someday your little bird will sing, Treize, but first . . . you have to let him out of his cage." 

"I can’t give him up, Milliard. I won’t. I won’t loose another . . ."

Milliard sighed. "Very well, Treize. But then you will never know if he truly loves you; if he chooses you."

Treize frowned.

~*~

"Wufei?" Treize called as he opened the door. The boy was putting some clothes in one of Treize’s suitcases.

"Can I borrow this? Just for the three days I’ll be gone? I’ll take good care of it." Wufei patted the suitcase.

"Everything in this room is yours," Treize said, a little morosely. 

Wufei flashed him a tiny smile. "Tired?"

“Perhaps a bit."

Wufei nodded. "Too tired to read tonight?"

“Sorry, Dragon.”

"Would you like me to do it?"

Treize began to remove his clothing. "If you wish.”

Wufei pushed his things to the side and spread out on the bed. Treize ducked into the closet to change as Wufei picked up their book. He emerged in red silk pajama pants and slowly slid under the covers.

The boy eyed him. "How’s your throat?"

Treize touched the little scab on his Adam’s apple. "Ask me in Greek and I’ll tell you."

"I’m not that concerned!" Wufei snorted. "Let’s see, where were we? Ah yes!" He began to read in a soft, breathy voice. 

Treize focused on the way the boy read, not paying much attention to the story. He closed his eyes, lulled.

After a while, his dragon stopped, shutting the book quietly. The boy turned off the lamps and slipped back into bed. "Good night, Treize, and thank you." Wufei kissed Treize’s forehead and turned over to sleep. 

Treize’s heart pounded in his chest. It was very hard, waiting for the boy . . . Feigning sleep, he turned over, snaked an arm around Wufei. Wufei did not fight the embrace, but merely yawned and snuggled closer. Treize nuzzled the back of the boy’s neck, and then settled in for sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Wufei felt himself dragged, kicking and screaming, out of bed at the first hint of dawn, made to dress, shove hot oatmeal in his face, and proceed to accompany Treize, Zechs and young Marie in the humming black limousine parked outside the compound’s gates.

"What do we need the limousine for?" he asked sleepily.

"Bags," Zechs replied, as he pushed his sunglasses farther up to conceal his bloodshot eyes.

"Bags," Wufei muttered and rolled his head over to the side to join little Marie for a quick nap.

 

~*~ 

Wufei couldn’t help but smile. Shopping with Duo had been rather like a batan death march, but shopping with Treize and Zechs felt like some elaborate game. Store attendants fell over each other to accommodate them, with a "Yes, Mr. Peacecraft," here and a "Of course you may charge it General Krushrenada," there. It amused him, the first six or seven shops. Then it got to be taxing.

Wufei walked out of the dressing room feeling a little ridiculous at having to model everything he tried on, but it felt nice to have Treize’s eyes on him with such rapt attention. Treize had let him pick some things, but mostly he left the choices to Milliard, who seemed to have an eye for clothes shopping. Wufei emerged from the fitting room with black leather boots, sharp black pants, and a white shirt with a huge collar that draped over one exposed shoulder. He wore his hair down, and that was the only thing obscuring the silver necklace resting about the base of his throat. "We’re definitely getting that one," Treize murmured, as Marie squirmed about in his lap and sucked on the fingers she had recently embedded into her mouth.

"Treize! You said that about the last ten outfits! How many clothes does one man need?" Wufei felt a little exasperated. How could he ever hope to pay Treize back for the opulence the man displayed today?!?!

Zechs and Treize just smiled at each other and nodded before turning back to reassess the boy. "Perhaps its time to move on from casual…" Treize pondered aloud.

"Ooooohhhh! Just one more thing." Zechs, cooed with a very frightening glee, as he grabbed Wufei by the wrist. "Come on, Wufei!"

"Wait! I can’t go like this…" Wufei started as Zechs hulled him out the door.

Treize merely got up and sauntered over to the register. "Charge it."

"Of course sir."

 

~*~ 

Wufei sat in the chair and tried to suppress his shivers. "How did I let you do this to me?" he gritted through clenched teeth.

Zechs simply laughed and looked over the assortment of earrings in the booth. "Hoops or dangles?"

"Stud." Wufei growled.

"Why, thank you." Treize grinned. "Dangles," he told the clerk.

Wufei looked at Treize with something akin to fear. Treize leaned over the booth and whispered, "Aw, come on now, dragon… surely a Gundam pilot like you isn’t afraid to get his little ear pierced?" Treize taunted.

"Fu---forget you." Wufei sniffed.

Treize grinned like a cheshire cat. "The trick is to take your mind off it…. Maybe I can help." Then the great General Treize Krushrenada of all OZ hoisted himself up over the glass booth of a strip mall ear-piercing kiosk and planted a nice big kiss on Chang Wufei’s forehead. CLICK!

"There all done!" the clerk chirped.

Wufei blinked. "Baka yaro!" he squealed, as he tried to dislodge himself from the chair, only to find he couldn’t move because the clerk still had his earring in hand, wiping it with stinging alcohol. He growled and squirmed. He looked over to see Zechs biting his lip, Treize looking way too interested in a magazine on the racks, and little Marie pointing and giggling at him.

"Hpmmm. Beeeee da!" he stuck his tongue out at the little girl, who only laughed harder.

Zechs held up a mirror. "What do you think, Wufei?"

Wufei looked at himself, surprised to see a bright, healthy face blushing back at him, soft black hair cascading around his chin, and a small silver streak of metal now swaying from his bright red earlobe. New clothes, new hair, and now jewelry. He didn’t look a thing like the familiar pilot of Shenlong. Then again, the pilot of Shenlong never looked so good.

"Saa… are we done now?" Wufei whined.

"How many presents does that make now?"

"Eleven—twelve including the sword." Zechs laughed.

"Nope. We still have four more gifts to go. Sorry Wufei, but spoiling you rotten is a tough business. I know you’ll pull through though."

Wufei sneered and turned his head away as he jumped down from the chair and leapt over the counter with ease.

"Daddy!"

"Yes Marie?"

"Toys now?"

"It has been a few hours Treize, and she’s been so good," Zechs said.

"Yes, that’s right. Marie, you’re so grown up sometimes I don’t even realize… Forgive me?"

"Depends on what we get at the toy store," Marie said as she gave her best imitation of a Wufei-sniff.

Treize threw his head back and laughed, as he picked up his daughter and sat her down on his shoulders. "All right! The toy store! Let’s see what Daddy’s princess wants?"

"Wai wai!!" Marie clapped. Wufei and Zechs trailed after, struggling with the overwhelming number of bags.

 

~*~ 

"How can he afford to be this generous?" Wufei whispered to Zechs.

"Oh honey are you kidding? The man before you is the oldest living heir to the Krushrenada fortune. He could burn money to keep warm in winter if he wanted."

"Honto?" Wufei wondered.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Wufei turned to look at the blonde man walking beside him, helping him carry his recent bounty through the mall. "No, Milliard. You’ve never lied to me. Or anyone, I imagine."

"I’ll take that compliment just because I don’t want to destroy your innocence," Zechs chided.

"Pbbtttt."

Zechs and Wufei sat down and watched Treize follow his daughter all around the store, pretending to examine each and every toy she picked to see if it was worthy of his princess. Treize even pretended to be her butler, holding purchases she considered, smiling with a very smart, "Yes, madam," and "You look divine in those rubies madam but won’t you try the pearls," and "Wouldn’t that teddy bear look cute on your shelf sets?" Marie ate the attention up and her little face shined with happiness and light.

"He really knows how to charm someone over doesn’t he?" Wufei said, not taking his eyes off Treize.

"You think? Yes, he’s very good at that. He’s … not always sure of how to give affection. Our families were never ones to express their love… so I think he gives his love by showering people with presents."

"That’s not love," Wufei bit out.

"Do you realize how fortunate you are to know that?" Zechs bit back. Then he sighed and relaxed his frown. "With Treize…I think…It’s a way of doing something for others. Giving them something they can hold on to, a physical proof of his attentions. Treize may be extravagant, but that’s not the flattering part. The part that makes you feel special is that when he gives you something, you know it’s from the heart—he means it."

Wufei thought for a moment. He reflected on the way the General had presented him with his katana. "Yes, I suppose you’re right."

"I’m always right." Zechs smiled.

"Wufei!" Marie called out and shook her little hands in the air.

Wufei got up and walked over to the girl. "Yes, your Highness?"

"Look!" Marie pointed to a small set of drums placed on a high platform. "Daddy says you play the drums… will you teach me?"

Wufei looked up at the pitiful drum set and then over at Treize. He licked his lips. "Would you like a demonstration, your Highness?"

Marie nodded. "That would be most satis—staris—factory….um, nice." For her credit, she did not loose her aristocratic air.

"Your wish is my command." Wufei bowed and then he pounced upon the little plastic chair and proceeded to twirl the stix in his hands. "One. Two. A one, two, three, four!" Wufei pounded on the drums like tomorrow would never come. At first, Treize glanced around, a little wary of what the store-owners might think, but then his eyes floated back to his dragon.

The boy’s eyes were shut, his arms moved about in a flurry, and his face beamed. The beat sounded very complicated, very intricate and very, very addictive. Soon the whole store and customers walking by outside stopped to listen. Zechs stood up from the bench surrounded by bags to get a better look, as Wufei brought the rhythm to a crashing finale and then tacked on a little "chiiiing" from one of the symbols.

He looked up at Marie and grinned. "Daddy! I want that one! That’s what I want."

Treize practically sweat-dropped. "But angel, drums are so noisy…"

A dark, omnious cloud descended over Marie’s face and the threat of an incoming tantrum set in. Wufei, sensing Treize’s growing distress, hopped down off the platform, picked up a Hawaiin tom-tom drum and quickly knelt beside Marie. "Your Highness?"

Marie glanced over at Wufei, clearly not in the mood. "Your Highness? All the masters have to start somewhere. This is the kind of drum I started on… back in my village…"

"This drum?" Marie blinked.

"Well, not exactly like this. Chinese and Japanese drums are a little different from Hawaiin, but it was basically the same. If you like, I’ll teach you to play on this drum…" Wufei looked up at Treize who held his breath.

"All right."

Treize puffed out the air he held captive in his lungs and smiled appreciatively at Wufei. They paid for the drum and turned to leave.

"Well dragon, we still have four gifts. What would you like?"

"A pony, world peace—forever this time, all the Tokyo X CDs and Zechs to get his nose and nipples pierced."

Zechs choked on his yuppie bottled water. "I am not," he coughed, "getting my nose pierced!"

"How bout your nipples then?" Wufei teased.

"Already done."

Wufei rolled his eyes in the back of his head and collapsed back onto the leather car seat. Treize merely lifted a curious eyebrow.

"Noin likes it," had been the only explanation Zechs offered. Wufei sunk lower in the chair and looked over at Marie, who was ignored everyone, tapping her drum. Present company considered, if this child doesn’t grow up to be a psychotic world dictator, then I’ll faint from shock, he thought.

"Seriously dragon. What four gifts can I give you to?"

"You already have…I get them in two days!!!"

"Hm?"

"Heero, Duo, Trowa and Quatre…" Wufei murmured as he closed his heavy eyelids for just a moment. It had been a long day.

 

~*~ 

"Are you insane?!?!’

Treize smirked. "Decidedly, as you keep saying so."

"But, but, but, but…"

"Redundancy is the soul of mediocrity, dragon."

"GO to HELL!" Wufei sung back at Treize and proceeded to repack his luggage for the third time that week.

"Not very nice, to talk to your sensei that way… especially before your final exam."

"You are just being a bastard," Wufei accused, without any heat in his argument. He knew he already lost, but he wouldn’t back down without a fight. "Why are you giving me a test NOW, the day before I meet minna? Can’t it wait ‘till I come back, or do you seek simply to torture me?"

Treize considered a glib retort, then considered Wufei’s past torture, and decided against it. "Wufei. The best way I can see what you’ve retained is to force you to recall it under pressure. Now, I’m going for a brandy with Zechs. If you’re not going to study, then I suggest you get some sleep. I expect you to impress me, dragon." With that Treize slipped out the door.

The moment he left Wufei ran over to the writing desk and hauled out all his books and began to cram like his life depended on it. He would show that smart… son of a…. darn! Where did his ability to curse go?!?

 

~*~ 

Later that night Treize returned to find his little dragon asleep on a mountain of books piled high on top of the writing desk. He gently carried Wufei over to the bed, shook off the boy’s shirt and tucked him under the covers before settling in and locking the boy into a warm embrace.

 

~*~ 

Wufei had taken three hours to finish his exams. He had no clue how he did. He thought he knew all the answers but he couldn’t check, as Treize removed all the books. He paced the room. Tomorrow he would see minna, and the next day he would see Quatre and Trowa marry. His excitement mingled with his perfectionist inclination towards nervousness until Wufei got so keyed up he bounced off the walls.

He decided to work off the energy and he put Trowa’s CD into the large stereo next to the fireplace. Wufei had thought to meditate. Maybe do some katas or breathing exercises. But then, Trowa’s CD had not been simply tenko drums in traditional songs from the Meiji Period. This had tenko drums and a kick ass techno beat in the background. Wufei had too much energy to begin with, and now he couldn’t keep himself still.

Wufei began to jump up and down, banging his hands on his chest in a parody of yesterday’s drum playing. He bounced all over the place, and soon he closed his eyes and abandoned himself to the rhythm. In typical teenage angst, he threw himself on the bed, jumped up and down on the mattress, flung himself up against the walls and generally went totally ape shit. Treize opened the door to the blaring music to find his dragon banging on imaginary drums and tossing his head from side to side. Treize just stood there, transfixed, and then he started to chuckle.

Wufei remained oblivious until he practically bumped into Treize and then he let out a piercing shriek and tons of little gasps as he backed up until he fell onto the bed. "For the love of the stars!" he yelled, as he hurled a pillow at Treize’s head. Treize just gave in to a fit of giggles and then attempted to straighten himself up and look dignified. Wufei blushed deeply and stammered into silence.

"Dragon…."

Wufei did not look up.

"I finished grading your test."

That got Wufei’s attention. "And?"

"And I must say I’m not too pleased…." Treize turned off the music.

"You’re….I …."

"You only got a sixty four, you know…"

Wufei sunk onto the bed and stared up at the canopy ceiling. "Impossible," he whispered.

"Got ya! You got a ninety four! I’m so proud of you dragon FEI!" Treize chanted as he rushed towards the bed.

Wufei didn’t move for a second and then he reached back and yanked a pillow to his chest, and stood up to wail at Treize’s injustice, but he changed his mind at the last minute and decided to just pummel Treize with the pillow instead. Treize took the abuse for a few seconds and then dove into Wufei, knocking him over onto the bed.

"Uhhhhnnn." Wufei grunted. "Ha! You can’t best me, Treize Krushrenada!"

"Oh? Looks like I’ve already got the best of you right here, dragon!" Treize whispered as he wickedly tickled the boy beneath him.

Wufei fought to breathe and lost and soon Treize had him writhing and laughing and gasping for air. When Wufei looked like a fish out of water Treize let up a bit, only to have Wufei knee him in the ribs and continue to beat him with the plush pillow, little white goose feathers floating everywhere.

Treize decided to move away and counterattacked with the pillow Wufei hurled at him previously. Soon the pilot of Shenlong and the General of OZ were engaged in a heated pillow fight, tumbling about the room with excess mirth, gleefully trading whallops and exaggerated grunts.

"Take that!" Wufei commanded as he whomped Treize across the head. Treize feigned certain doom and keeled towards the bed, making sure to take Wufei with him.

Treize didn’t move and Wufei was too out of breath to fight back at the moment. So he and Treize merely grinned at each other, lying side by side, white feathers snowing down on them. They found themselves locked into a staring contest. Slowly, Treize inched closer to Wufei, encouraged by the fact that Wufei did not retreat, but merely stared at him with curiosity… and… hunger? Treize leaned his neck out and capture Wufei’s lips in a soft, warm, demanding kiss.

"Mmmm." Wufei moaned.

Treize continued his demands, gently brushing his tongue across Wufei’s lips, requesting them to part. They didn’t. Treize pulled back slightly and licked and nipped at the corners of Wufei’s mouth, hungrily kissing his little dragon, and tenderly purring to him.

"Wufei…." he whispered.

Wufei had not moved once since the kiss began and Treize pulled away, but he kept his eyes closed.

"Wufei… is this all right?"

No answer came. Treize opened his eyes to see large black orbs transfixed with fear and distance. Treize scooted back. Wufei’s brow creased, his mouth twitched and his eyes looked right through Treize. "Wufei… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you so far…"

Wufei seemed to look over at Treize, and register his worried face. Treize looked so sad. "Wufei. I’m sorry."

Wufei couldn’t speak. He lay there in total shock. He felt so utterly confused and time seemed to slow to a complete standstill. Treize had kissed him and something in him ignited. He wanted Treize to kiss him again, to hold him close and to whisper to him again. But he felt terrified. This had been his enemy! How could he forget that so quickly! This had been his master, no matter how kind, his keeper! Because of this man, he was captured, wounded, raped and sold. He should hate this man! He must hate this man! How could he ever face minna again?

Treize sighed, utterly defeated. "Ah little one… I know… don’t call you that! You have suffered so because of me…Still… I sought to make it right… to take care of…." Treize trailed off. He couldn’t getting through. He cupped Wufei’s face in his hands and started again. "Wufei. I never intended for all your pain. I only wanted to bring you here and show you every happiness. But I failed. I know now, that I can’t keep you caged like this…. You deserve the world. Even if the world doesn’t deserve you. I’m so sorry, dragon…"

"Treize?" Wufei whispered, suddenly very afraid.

Treize did not look at him. He carefully removed his hands from Wufei’s face and lowered them to his necklace. Without touching the golden soft skin beneath the metal, Treize removed the collar from the boy’s neck and quickly got up off the bed. He turned his back on Wufei, to hide his tears. "Tomorrow when you go, go for good."

"Treize?"

"I am releasing you of your obligations as attache. You may join your friends, or go wherever you please. I free you…."

Wufei’s jaw dropped. He… He didn’t want him anymore! He had been used, he looked ugly, he didn’t kiss him back! And now Treize felt disgusted with him! He felt so dirty, so lowly; he couldn’t bring himself to drag his eyes off the carpet.

Treize turned around abruptly. "Please, take everything with you. In case… you ever want to… remember me. I will understand, though, if you don’t. I will… I will leave you in peace tonight. The butler will take you to the plane. Good evening….." Treize marched towards the door. "Good bye, Wufei…" Treize whispered as he shut the door with a click.

 

~*~ 

Where the hell was Milliard? He needed a drink. Several dozens, actually. He headed for his friend’s apartment, the ache in his chest growing with each step away from the bedroom.

 

~*~ 

Wufei sat on the bed and gaped at the door. He looked around the room for a few seconds, and then plopped to the floor. And then, for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, he cried. Hot fat tears slipped down his cheeks and stifled his sobs into the comforter hanging off the edge of the bed. Treize didn’t want him! Minna would surely hate him. He never felt so alone, and his stomach twisted in knots.

"Milliard!" Treize boomed as he rapped on the door.

Zechs ran across the room and flung open the door. Treize threw himself into Zech’s arms, not stopping to look at the man’s half open shirt, little golden nipple rings exposed and a giant purple hicky forming on the man’s neck. Treize buried his face into Zech’s shoulder and began to shake.

"Treize? Treize what’s wrong? Is it Wufei?"

"I let him go," Treize said in a voice so small and so child-like that Zechs felt tears sting his own eyes.

"Um, come in… Tell me about it…"

"I was just leaving…" Noin said as she patted her purple locks back into place and adjusted her shirt.

"Noin?" Treize gasped. "Oh… Oh, Milliard… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt with my problems..."

"No! Treize! Its okay. Noin understands, don’t you darling?" Zechs held his breath.

"Of course my love…I’ll go to my room now. Good evening General, and if I may say, good luck, sir."

"Thank you, Noin. I promise I won’t keep him long."

Noin hurried off, looking only slightly peeved and Zechs ushered Treize onto the bed. "Now, sit down, and tell me what happened."

Treize gave his version of the details, trying his best to hold back any tears or signs of weakness, which seemed just stupid, considering the man before him new his every tell at poker, let alone in personal matters.

"Oh Treize, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were finally breaking down his walls. But it’s like I said… You have to let him go. Otherwise, you’ll never know what he truly feels."

"Fear. Disgust. Shame. That is all he feels for me. I saw it in his eyes…"

"Oh my friend. Have patience!"

"No, Milliard. He won’t come back. And after all that has happened, I can’t blame him! I was such a fool!"

"Treize!" Zechs leaned down and rested his head on his best friend’s chest, listening to the broken heart that beat there.

"Get me drunk, Milliard. Get me drunk or I won’t have the strength to let him leave…"

Zechs didn’t move. He just held Treize tighter, and Treize returned the embrace, his body now wracking with unbridled sobs.

Zechs didn’t even bother to drivel at him that it would be all right. His friend truly felt like dying inside, and saying it will be okay wouldn’t going to cut it.

"Milliard… I’m sorry I stopped you and Noin…"

Zechs laughed. "It’s ok. The really important part was over..."

Treize glanced down. "But you don’t even have your clothes off…"

"Baka!… I asked Noin to marry me and she accepted--" Zechs snapped his head as fear washed all over his heart. Poor Treize! He would feel like he had abandoned him!

Treize smiled down at him. "From my heart, Milliard, congratulations. I expect to be best man!"

"Its a promise."

Treize lifted his body a little to kiss his best friend, to show him that there were no hard feelings, to show his happiness for the other man. At this inopportune moment, Wufei chose to barge into Zech’s room.

"Milliard! Treize doesn’t want---" Wufei stopped dead in his tracks as the two men broke apart. His eyes quickly took in Zech’s open shirt and hair in disarray, and Treize underneath him on the bed. Something in his little heart cracked and a wave of pure sadness and fury swept over him. Wufei straightened his back and cleared his throat. "I merely came to say good-bye, Milliard. Take care of each other." Wufei spun on his heel and bolted out of the room.

Treize fell back on the bed and sobbed.

Zechs held his head in his hands. He tried to go after Wufei, but the door had been locked and techno music blared for hours. Treize had been no help, drowning himself in the liquor cabinet until he passed out on Zechs’s floor. Zechs tucked Treize into bed, and left a note under Wufei’s door then he slipped into Noin’s room and trembled in her gentle embrace, his heart heavy for his friends.

 

~*~ 

Wufei had stepped off the plane in a daze. He only took the clothes on his back, the tailored tuxedo and the katana—something to remember Treize by—as he hailed a cab and recited the Winner’s address from memory.

Wufei arrived in the middle of elaborate preparations. Dozens of women—Quatre’s sisters he presumed—were lacing the house and grounds with chains of flowers and setting up chairs and buffet tables. He hadn’t been noticed in the commotion as he walked into the mansion and strode right up to Duo, who had tangled himself up in white lights.

"Hello, Maxwell."

"Hello Wufei…. Wufei!" Duo ran to him, lights and all, and glomped on top of him, showering him with kisses and playful punches.

"MINNA! Wufei’s here!" he screamed. "Oh Wu-man! Look at you! An earring?!! And what a hot outfit! Life in a palace must be tough! How ya feeling?"

"Maxwell," Wufei whispered, as he crushed the boy to him.

"Wufei!" Quatre squealed as his ran down the stairs and dropped to his knees to throw his arms around Wufei’s neck. "How do you feel? Are you jet lagged? Are you hungry? Did they treat you well?"

"Welcome home, Wufei."

"Yuy."

Heero walked slowly over to Wufei and bent down to place a gentle hand on Wufei’s head. Wufei’s eyes stung. This marked the first time Heero had ever shown him any affection, and though the gesture had been small, coming from Yuy, it spoke volumes. "Did they treat you well?"

"Ah. I was treated with the utmost respect and hospitality, just like I said in the letter."

"Wufei-kun! Okaeri!"

"Hello, Trowa! Congratulations on finally getting up the courage to ask him to marry you!"

"Actually," Trowa blushed, "he asked me…"

Wufei raised his eyebrows in a remarkably Treize gesture. "Is that so?"

"Wufei! Get up off that floor and over here this instant! You must tell us all about the land of OZ!"

"He must be tired Duo, let him rest."

"Heero you are such a wet rag!"

"That doesn’t make any sense."

"Its an American expression. It means you are no fun!"

"You thought it was fun when I tied you up last night.."

Duo and Heero peered over at Wufei, waiting for a nosebleed or sharp comment. Instead he brushed Duo’s bangs back and placed a small kiss on his forehead. "It’s good to be home, minna."  
~*~ 

On the following day, the warm Cancer sun graced the sky and smiled down on the Winner estate. Wufei sat in the first row, watching as Duo and Heero shifted nervously from their places as best men. Trowa stood at the tops step of the gazebo, his eyes looking down the isle for his love. "Bell Canon" by Pachell began to play and everyone rose as Quatre, in the most elegant and simple white tux, slowly walked down the isle, a bouquet of pink roses in his hands.

Pink roses. A young and innocent love. Wufei’s chest ached with the memory of Treize, but he banished the thoughts and focused on the sweet face of his fellow pilot and friend. Quatre looked radiant. Ecstatic. Wufei wondered if he would ever find a love like that.

Quatre joined Trowa on the gazebo, and soon after, they exchanged vows of undying love and the promise of a life together. Wufei, despite himself, felt pangs of joy and sorrow, spasms of release and intense pain. They had made it so far, through the war, through life itself. They were barely sixteen and they had experienced so much. Now Trowa and Quatre would experience life together. And soon, Duo and Heero would follow. Much as he loved being with minna, he knew he could not remain here. He would only be in their way.

The reception had been pleasant enough with music and dancing and lots of wine, typical of any expensive celebration. Quatre and Trowa were in their own world, however; since the first song played, they had begun to kiss and hadn’t stopped half an hour later. Wufei took his turns with Quatre’s sisters, impressing Duo and Heero with his ability to waltz. Another sad smile graced his face as Yuy stepped up to him and extended his arm.

"May I have this dance?"

Wufei took his arm and let Heero lead him to the floor for a slow song.

"Wufei? What’s wrong? Are you unhappy?"

"Only a little," Wufei said through closed eyes.

"Did they hurt you? You don’t have to pretend for me… I know what it’s like…"

"No… Treize didn’t hurt me. Une did, but that’s forgotten. No one was rude to me once I got there."

"Then are you sad to have to go back so soon?"

"No. I… I don’t have to go back, Heero."

"What?"

"He... let me go."

Heero paused and then tucked Wufei’s head under his chin. "Then why are you sad?"

"He let me go."

Heero pulled back and looked at Wufei’s onyx eyes. "You… love him?"

Wufei’s eyes flooded with tears. "No!… Yes…. I don’t know!" He sniffed and pulled Heero back into their embrace. "It doesn’t matter now. He doesn’t want me. He gave me back."

"Why? What did he say?"

"Some crap about not deserving me and how I deserved the world… bull… shit." Wufei hiccuped. "Please don’t let them see me like this…"

"It’s okay. They’ll think you’re drunk anyway. God knows I am. I hate big affairs. They make me nervous."

"They used to make me that way, too."

"Not anymore?"

"I got over it at… at the palace."

"Oh. I see. Why… not go back and try to work it out, Wufei?"

"No. It’s over. He doesn’t want me…"

"Are you sure?"

"Milliard said---"

"Milliard?"

"Zechs Marquise… said that Treize was letting me go because he loved me. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’m so tired and I can’t think straight. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. But… he’s the enemy. He made me his PET. I have my pride. But my pride doesn’t take away this… emptiness… this loneliness."

"Wufei…"

"A thousand times a day I turn around to ask him his opinion on something, or to practice my languages or even to just get a rise out of him… I never realized how big a part of my life he became… I miss him, Heero.."

Heero pulled Wufei close to him and breathed into his ear. "Then… then you must go to him Wufei."

"I can’t, Yuy."

"Listen Wufei. I almost lost Duo because I was a coward. No don’t you be one too, you hear me? Follow your love, at all costs. Even if it turns you into a fool..."

"A fool in a penguin suit on a motocycle?"

Heero blushed. "Even then. Find out if Treize loves you. If not, then come back. You always have a place with us… you know that…"

Wufei kissed Heero gratefully, which shocked Heero to be sure, but the kiss had been returned. Then Wufei had been let loose into Duo’s embrace as the braided boy cut in without a word.

"Hey there, Wu-man. I know you got a dance for me, ne?! And a kiss too?"

"Maxwell no baka!" Wufei said, as he smiled at Heero and pulled Duo into a tight frame. They danced, and for once Duo remained quiet, and Wufei appreciated that, just letting him feel, just letting him adjust. When Quatre and Trowa finally broke for air, Wufei got his chance to dance with each of them, and in doing so, got to say his good-byes.

 

~*~ 

"Wufei-kun. If you love him, then don’t care what anybody else thinks. Go and take him. Take your happiness. That is where your real freedom lies."

"I never knew you were such a romantic, Trowa!"

"I wasn’t, until I met Quatre. Wufei, never give up, ne? That way, you never loose…"

"Wufei… we love you! You will always have a home here."

"Thank you, Quatre. I love you, too. I’m sorry to only stay for such a short time… I will come back sometime, I promise, minna. I won’t loose you again."

"God’s speed Wufei!" Duo grinned.

"Make sure he treats you well, Wu. Remind him who your friends are!"

"Thank you Duo, Heero. Minna. I can never--" Wufei began to choke up and the words wouldn’t come past his throat, so he merely bowed as slowly and as deeply as he ever had in his life. Then he picked up his bag and sword and without another word, stepped into the cab and raced towards the airport.

 

~*~ 

General Treize Krushrenada effectively fell apart. For three days he didn’t eat, move from his writing desk or even bother to look up when Zechs or his servants spoke to him. He clutched the silver necklace and ran his fingers up and down the cherry wood desk.

His mind wandered... Wufei studying at this very desk. Wufei lying on the floor as he read him the classics. Wufei trying on clothes. Wufei’s soft lips. Wufei’s coal black hair. Wufei’s laughter; his cries. The way the boy clung to him in fear or elation. Even the harsh words delivered to him in the hospital became precious to Treize and he ran then over and over in his mind. All the duels, all the arguments, all the dances he’d had with Wufei. Gone. His dragon now gone... and with him went Treize’s heart.

"Get up! Dammit!" Zechs slapped him hard across the face.

"Milliard? There you are…."

"Treize? Treize, can you see me?"

"Yes, you don’t have the power to become invisible, do you?"

"Treize, do something for me?"

"What?"

"Take a shower!"

"A shower?"

"Yes! Now! Please!"

Zechs lifted Treize up and hauled him into a steaming hot shower and closed the door. He then threw several soaps and shampoos over the glass door. "Don’t come out of there until you smell like a rose!"

"Um, Milliard, you’re scaring me…"

No you’re the scary one, Zechs thought. Not even moving for almost 24 hours is scary. It’s so unlike you Treize! "Just get clean and then I’ll order you some soup."

"I’m not hungry."

"I’m not interested. You’ve been a royal pain in the ass, you know. Scaring everyone. Not showing up for work. Not eating. NOT MOVING! Marie has been asking for you and Wufei for days and quite frankly I didn’t know what to tell her…"

"Gomen…"

"Don’t apologize, just wash!"

Treize scrubbed himself harshly, enjoying the pain over his sensitive skin, luxuriating in the too-hot water, punishing himself. When he got out he had turned a red as a crab.

"Good GOD! Here…" Zechs wrapped a towel around his friend. "You look like a lobster, Treize!"

"Butter me," came the bitter reply.

Now that’s more like Treize. "How bout some chicken soup instead?"

"Whatever, Milliard."

Zechs sighed and let the older man lean on him until he reached the bed. Then Zechs punched in 77 and ordered the food up.

After Zechs had been satisfied that the General had eaten a little, he tucked him into bed and turned off all the lights save one. "Good night, Treize."

"Thank you, Milliard..."

Treize tried to sleep, but he couldn’t. Where did his dragon live now? What did he do there? Did he keep safe? Did he stay with his friends? Would he find someone else soon? Treize tossed and turned and decided to get up rather than surrender to the nightmares he knew awaited him. The General could never remember being so weak, but then he had never been so strong either. He loved Wufei. He could move mountains if the boy needed him to. He loved Wufei. His rejection could kill him, would kill him.

Treize moved to the writing desk and sat down, brushing his fingers across the lid as if he were stroking his dragon’s body. He opened the desk and took out the book of Tao, and held it to his lips. It smelled like his love—lavender, lang lang, and something only Wufei had. Treize laid the book down and rested his head in his hands. The moonlight washed over him, but his eyes were tightly shut, and he did not see the shadow pass over him. Wufei slipped into the room from the balcony and silently unsheathed his sword.

"I have come to challenge you again, General."

At first Treize thought his clouded mind had imagined the voice, but Wufei had never spoken to him so sensually, so huskily before. He opened his eyes and slowly looked over at the dragon in attack position not ten feet from him. He drew in a sharp breath.

"You win."

"Not that easy, General…. I have some questions…"

"No doubt."

"What was that I saw with Zechs three nights ago?"

"I was congratulating Zechs on his engagement."

"Engagement?"

"To Lt. Noin. They are to be married this winter, and I was asked to be best man. I was thanking Zechs and I kissed him, as I always have. Why?"

"No. My questions first." Wufei never moved from attack position. "Why did you make me a war prize?"

"Because I thought I was in love with you…"

Wufei tried not to crack when he noticed the use of past tense. "And why did you let me go?"

"Because I really did fall in love with you."

That marked Wufei’s turn to draw in a sharp breath. "And why should I believe you?"

"You shouldn’t, dragon. I don’t deserve you. I put you through too much to ever hope for your love now…"

Wufei stared at the figure glowing in the moonlight. He looked pale, clearly troubled. An air of sadness hung all around the room. Treize’s eyes were hollow and burned with fever. He looked so frail it unnerved Wufei. He lowered his sword.

"I thought you didn’t want me…"

"What?!"

"Because… I wasn’t… new."

"You! You are everything to me, Wufei. I love you so much, that… I couldn’t bear to keep you in this cage. I had to let you go… I had to let you choose. Whether you could love me or not…." Treize swallowed but he never took his eyes off Wufei’s face. "Do you? Have you chosen, dragon Fei?…."

Wufei closed his eyes and cocked his head. "Call me that again."

Treize stood. "My dragon Fei," he called.

"TREIZE!!!!!!!" Wufei sobbed, as he dropped his sword and ran towards his love. He jumped on Treize, wrapping his legs around the older man’s back and devoured his mouth with a hungry, pure, passionate kiss.

Treize responded instantly, wrapping his arms around the boy and opening his mouth for that precious invasion. He sunk to the floor, taking his dragon with him, until he sat on his knees. He shook with delighted sobs and tears began to stream down his face. Gripping Wufei, he lowered the boy to the floor as he kissed him deeply, bruising his lips, meshing their bodies together. Wufei trembled beneath him as he, himself, shook with sobs. "You are so beautiful, my dragon love. So beautiful. How could anyone not want you? I will want you till the day I die!" Treize confessed.

"Treize!" Wufei began to shake violently, as if he was chilled from the inside. "Treize… I love you!"

"Oh, Wufei!" Treize leaned over him again and arrested that blessed mouth in a savage kiss, claiming the rose-colored flesh beneath him, daring their words to be true. "Dragon Fei!" he called again as he bit at the corners of Wufei’s eager mouth.

"Treize! Treize! I missed you so much! I don’t ever want to go away again!"

"There will never be a need, precious one. I will go where you go. I will be with you for as long as you want me…"

"Can you live forever?" Wufei wondered.

Treize laughed. "For you? I can arrange it… Kiss me again, my dragon child."

Wufei pulled Treize down by his neck and touched their lips together in a heady mixture of desperate lust and blossoming love. Wufei’s tongue flicked over Treize’s lower lip and he gained access to the hot cavern, shyly exploring the secrets of its depths.

"Mhmmmm." Treize hummed and Wufei giggled.

"That tickles!" he accused.

"Punish me?" Treize blinked innocently.

Wufei laughed and slapped Treize playfully on the ass. The response had been unanticipated to say the least. Treize bit sharply into Wufei’s neck and sucked hard, meanwhile moaning and growling like a lion contented with his new prey.

Wufei ran his hands through sandy brown hair. "I love you! Gods above, how I love you, you bastard!"

Treize released Wufei’s neck and lapped at the teeth marks he left there. "I will never tire of you saying so, dragonling…" he crooned into Wufei’s neck.

"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love… you, Treize!" Wufei’s body rose to rub up against Treize, desperate for more contact, and he let his hands roam all over Treize’s back, pushing the man down on top of him.

"Oh, my love…Mmmmm. More." Treize hooked his left arm under Wufei’s head to give his dragon child a makeshift pillow, and with his other hand he stroked Wufei’s hair. He licked Wufei’s throat and nipped at the junction of jaw and neck, neck and shoulder, shoulder and breast. He cupped Wufei’s cheekbone in his large hand and looked deeply into those big black eyes. "Are you mine?"

"Always…" Wufei breathed.

"Then come, dragon mine."

Treize lifted Wufei up off the floor and gently carried him to their bed, lowering him onto the soft mattress with the utmost care. He lay beside Wufei and reveled in the touch of Wufei’s exploring hands.

Wufei couldn’t get enough of Treize. He brushed his trembling hands all over the man’s back, his face and chest. This forbidden ecstasy he denied himself no longer. Wufei nuzzled Treize and butted his head against the man like a little kitten. He even purred in his delight and breathed in deeply, to get more of Treize’s rosy sent.

"Why my dragon, I didn’t know you could purr!" Treize chuckled.

"I can make other noises too, Treize. Care to find out?"

Treize’s eyes sparkled. "Most definitely." Treize sighed and ran is left hand down Wufei’s arm and leg. "I can’t believe you came back…"

"I can’t believe you let me go..."

"What made you decide come back?"

"You let me go. That was the moment you made me yours," Wufei said, in revelation.

Treize wondered how Zechs knew. How did he guess? Did he feel the same way when Treize let him go? Did he love him before or after? Or had it been it Zechs that let Treize go? He didn’t know. He just knew that his dragon rested willingly in his arms, warm and bright and alive and that would be all that mattered now.

"I love you Wufei." Treize shuttered as he brushed the tip of his nose all over Wufei’s face.

"Mmm. Show me how much?"

"Ha. But you have to ask what you want in Latin…"

Wufei groaned then laughed. "But I only know the word phallus…aahhh!"

Treize cupped Wufei’s erection and gently rubbed over it in a slow circle. "Very good, Wufei. That’s a very good word. I shall teach you some others before the night is through…" Treize sucked Wufei’s right nipple through the cloth of his shirt.

"Ohhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh! Mmmmm.Tre…. Ahhhh!"

Treize’s hand never hurried its pace, but his tongue began to lash at the awakened nub of flesh. Wufei shifted and sat up on his elbows. Then he removed his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Treize could barely contain his joy. His tongue whipped Wufei, then teased in light circles, and then his teeth grazed his flesh, all the while, that large, gentle hand stroked they boy towards madness.

"Treize!"

"Hmmmm?"

Wufei tugged at the man’s silk pajama top. "Off."

"Yes, dragon."

Treize slipped his shirt over his head and no sooner was had chest been exposed then Wufei’s hungry mouth descended over it, mimicking Treize’s previous onslaught, yet biting more sharply, punishing the General for making him wait.

"Ohhhh! Hnnnn. Yes…." Treize whispered.

Wufei scooted down farther on the bed and licked under Treize’s right nipple, lapping at the sensitive muscular sheath he found there. He sucked on Treize’s abdomen muscles, one by one almost satisfied that Treize lifted his hips and arched his back with want. But Wufei wanted more.

"Treize. May I?

"Latin."

"You’ve got to be kidding me?"

"Latin, dragon."

"Um…phalla—la—shio"

"Close enough. And, an excellent notion, dragon Fei!" Treize rolled Wufei onto his back and hooked two fingers on each side of the boy’s pants and ripped them down past his ankles, smiling at the yelp of shock Wufei rewarded him with. Trieze tossed the pants behind him and spread Wufei’s legs slowly. His dragon looked eager but shy; he could be so sexy! Treize settled between the boy’s thighs and rubbed his cheek across the boy’s passion.

"Oh!" Wufei bolted and then fell back against the covers as Treize flicked his tongue across the shaking tip. Wufei gripped the sheets as Treize ran his tongue up one side of his penis and down the other, over and over, then flicked the tip of his tongue rapidly over the weeping slit, smearing the white precum all over the cockhead so quickly it looked deliciously obscene. It turned Wufei ON! Treize made him feel so hot, like he had been the most desirable thing in the universe. Wufei lifted his hips, but his lover insistently pushed them back down and held him there.

Treize continued to flick the cockhead until Wufei writhed. Then Treize opened his mouth and slowly sucked his way down to the boy’s root.

"Uhhhhh!!!! Nnn! Oh sweet stars! Trei….."

Treize luxuriated in his dragon’s scent, in his masculine taste. The slender cock began to twitch under the burden of its pleasure, and Treize engulfed it harmonica style, sliding his mouth up and down the side, then swirling the cockhead with forceful nudges. Treize lightly scratched his nails over Wufei’s balls, eliciting a howl of pleasure.

Treize replaced his mouth with his hand and pumped Wufei’s wet cock as he drew one testicle into his mouth and sucked on it powerfully, forcing it in deep. Then Treize took the other ball into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in clockwise motions. Wufei pulled his hair, practically screaming now. But Treize couldn’t be bothered; he had to concentrate. Treize took both balls and smashed them together then withdrew his mouth and blew cold air onto them.

"HHnnnnnnnnnnnnn! Oh Gods, oh Gods oh Gods…"

Treize looked up at Wufei, cornflower blue eyes smiling into the darkest onyx. Treize covered Wufei’s erection with his mouth and pumped up and down, licking on the way down, sucking on the way up. He let Wufei buck his hips up, fucking his mouth. He breathed through his nose and moved faster, wanting to bring his little love to a sweet completion. Wufei fucked him and screamed his name, and that put Treize into pure heaven. As Wufei’s salty cream filled his throat, Treize had to close his eyes, because the beauty of the thing becoming too much.

Wufei collapsed on the bed as the last pangs of sheer mind-blowing pleasure ripped through him. It would be a while before he could speak and when he looked for Treize, he found the man over him, and then kissing him, spreading his own seed around his mouth, coating his tongue, his teeth and the roof of his cavern with his own salty taste. Wufei moaned. This seemed so unbearably erotic and he became hard again. OH no! Treize!

"Treize?" came a small voice. "I’m sorry…"

"Why?"

"I… you didn’t come…I didn’t do it right…"

Treize exhaled and hugged his little one tightly to him. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, Treize," the little voice replied.

"Then, you did it right, Wufei. All I ever want from you is to let me know what pleases you and what doesn’t, okay? Just be honest with me. Promise?"

"Yes. You, too?"

"I promise." Treize kissed him again and Wufei braved the unknown, stroking Treize’s rigid cock through his silk pants.

"Do you like this Treize?"

"Ver… very much." He shuddered.

Wufei put his hand down Treize’s pants and stroked his cock gently, tugging upward, using his fingers to press the cockhead.

"Oh, God!" Treize groan as he fought to keep his hips from coming off the bed. "Wu… fei…."

Wufei slid his hands on either side of Treize hips and stroked his pants and underwear down and dropped them over the side of the bed. Then Wufei lay on top of Treize, so that they were nose to nose. Wufei’s right thigh rubbed languidly across the General’s throbbing shaft, and Wufei licked and kissed his chin and lips.

"Oh, my little dragon… what you do to me….mmmmm."

Wufei French kissed his lover, deeply, urgently, and he raked his nails down the man’s chest, pausing only to twist his nipples.

"Hmmmmmmm! Maaaa!"

"Treize, my darling, my only love…." Wufei chanted as he sucked on Treize’s neck and ran his tongue along the man’s collar bone.

Treize couldn’t wait any longer; he let his hands slide down Wufei’s back and grope his firm, round ass. The General clutched one buttock in each hand and rolled them in opposite circles, pushing Wufei’s awakening member against his belly and making the boy press his thigh against his own pulsing penis.

"Treize… Gods, you make me feel so good… I want you…"

Treize let a stinging little slap fall onto Wufei’s left buttcheek and then he continued to fondle that silky smooth ass. "Don’t tempt me, dragon. Not until you’re ready…"

Wufei grabbed Treize’s shoulders and pulled him up into a sitting position. "How can I convince you I’m ready, General?"

Treize crooned deep in his chest. "Latin."

"Are you--"

"—insane?!?" they both finished.

"Yes. I’m certifiable. Latin, or no play."

Wufei blushed. Then he leaned close to Treize and whispered in his ear.

"I’m so glad you read that book I left out for you…" Treize muttered as he fumbled for lubricant in the top drawer of the night-stand. Finally recovering the bottle of crème, he turned back to face a smiling, shy dragonling, resting atop his lap, and he let out a small sigh.

"I’m so glad you came back to me, Wufei…"

"I’ll never leave you again, Treize…. I love you so… I never knew what love really was until there was you…" Wufei said between little kisses all over Treize’s eyebrows, forehead, nose, and jaw.

"I’ll make sure you never have a reason to go away…"

Treize twisted open the bottle and poured a generous amount of lotion onto his hands. Wufei still kissed him, but he took Treize’s hands and removed the crème, coating his own hands. Then he rubbed the scented lotion around his palms, warming it. Finally, he closed his hand around Treize’s purple, weeping cock and stroked downward, placing his other hand at the cockhead and repeating the motion, creating an endless tunnel of warm, wet bliss.

Treize fell back on his elbows and watched as his beloved dragon child coated his cock with thick, soft crème. Treize pulled himself out of his reverie long enough to dollop two fingers into the bottle and wipe them across Wufei’s crack. The boy threw his head back in anticipation. Treize pressed his middle finger tenderly inside Wufei, carefully penetrating the tight ring of muscle trying to force him out. Treize removed his finger and Wufei hissed.

Coating three fingers this time, Treize teased Wufei’s opening and then quickly slid two fingers up inside, stroking in and out, consciously rubbing against the boy’s prostrate. Wufei leaned so far back Treize felt afraid he would fall over. He noticed his dragon kept biting his lip, hard.

"Does this hurt you, Wufei?"

"No, Treize."

"Then why are you biting your lip?"

Wufei blinked, and his face became a little sad. "… Habit."

"Oh. Well, we shall have to make you new habits then…I want you to be as loud as you can. Wake the dead, dragonling. Don’t hold back," Treize whispered, as he thrust three fingers into Wufei.

"Yes, Treize! Oh, yes!!"

"That’s my dragon child."

"Meammmm." Wufei began to fuck himself on Treize’s fingers and mewed in supplication.

Treize removed his fingers and leaned back until he rested against his headboard. He held his cock in one hand and Wufei’s hip in the other. "Remember, tell me if it doesn’t feel good…"

Wufei nodded and lifted his hips above Treize’s straining erection. The Cinese youth lowered himself rather quickly, sharply impaling himself on Treize’s thorn, shocked to find the pain reverberating in his heart, his soul touched by the magnificent beauty of their union. Treize involuntarily shoved himself deeper into Wufei’s tight hole and then cried out as he tried to restrain himself.

"Wufei? Doesn’t it hurt?"

"Not like before…. Oh Gods….Its too much." Wufei leaned forward and rested his head on Treize's shoulder, as Treize stroked his hands lovingly up and down Wufei’s back, waiting for him to set the pace. Wufei began to hump Treize, but after a while, he rolled back and pulled Treize on top of him.

"Treize?"

"Yes, dragon?"

"Take me? Make me yours? I want you… to give me new memories…"

Treize nodded. "I understand, Wufei."

Treize slowly stroked inside the boy, burying himself as deeply as he could go, pressing his balls to Wufei’s spread ass. He established the rhythm of thrust, pause, snap, sending Wufei into a frenzy within a matter of minutes.

"Oh Treize, Treize, Treize, Treize, oh, oh… yes, yes! Do that to me again. Again! Ahhhh!"

Treize lifted Wufei’s legs over his shoulders and kissed him as he moved for a deep, rough thrust, and then snapped his hips forward sharply a few times, just to keep Wufei off guard. His dragon was wept, crying softly into his shoulder, begging him for more, for it to never end and Treize couldn’t let his little one cry alone. Their tears mixed and Treize tried to kiss them away, but there were too many, too fast.

"Dragon," his hoarse voice rang through the moonlight. "I love you. I love you, I love you, my dragon, my lover, my Chang Wufei… my little and dearest love…oh God, you are my everything… my only one," Treize whispered as he fucked Wufei over and over, his thrusts coming faster and faster.

"Oh yes, Treize! Hmmm. Oh Gods, my love, please… please…."

Treize obeyed and he drove into Wufei with abandon, giving himself up to the pleasure as old as the stars themselves. His cock rammed in and out of Wufei’s hot, slick hole and reveled in every buck and jolt from Wufei’s hips. Wufei bit into Treize’s shoulder, marking him, claiming him, loving him.

Treize’s hand came down from its grip on the headboard to engulf Wufei’s length, until Wufei gasped and screamed under the double stimulation. Wufei’s thick white cream shot all over Treize’s hands, and their taunt abdomens. His little anus contracted, pinching Treize, who had relinquished all self control a while ago, and Treize coated his gouts of semen deep into Wufei, shouting his undying love as he came, and then collapsed onto the boy beneath him. Wufei clung fiercely to Treize, his only anchor in a sea of emotions and sensations. Their breathing took minutes to return to normal.

Treize looked up through his sweaty locks of hair and peered into Wufei’s little eyes. "Dragon fei? Did I hurt you?" Treize asked as he pulled out slowly.

"No…it was…. Treize, it was amazing! Will you…?"

"Will I what, dragon?’

"Will you still want to do this with me?"

"Every night of our lives…" Treize smiled as he pressed a kiss to his insecure, naïve, passionate, feisty little dragon’s forehead.

"Hmmm, Treize?"

"Yeah?"

"Hold me while we sleep?"

"Every night of our lives…" Treize whispered as he slid off Wufei and coiled his warm body around the boy’s, spooning against him.

But Wufei turned in the embrace and nestled his head in the crook of Treize’s shoulder and chest. He placed a kiss there and said, "Wo ai ni." And then he drifted off into sleep, as Treize brushed his hair back from his face in long, soft strokes.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, unaware of the door opening and Zechs’ crystal blue eyes peering in on his best friend. When Zechs saw the sight of Wufei peacefully intertwined in Treize’s arms, he clasped his hand over his mouth to keep from crying aloud, as the sheer joy and happiness consumed him. He shut the door quietly and hurried back to tell Noin.  
~*~ 

Treize woke with the dawn and a tingling sensation rushed through his whole body as he realized that he lay next to his beautiful dragon child. He watched the boy sleep for some time, and then began to trace his forefinger across Wufei’s cheek.

"Hmmmhmmimmmm." Wufei mumbled and buried his face into Treize’s arms.

"Draaaaaagon…" Treize sang.

"Humph.…"

"Oh dragon Fei… wake up!"

"The bed better be on fire," Wufei muttered as he fought to open his eyelids.

"Good morning, my lover."

"What?"

"There’s an important question I want to ask you…"

"It better not be in Latin, because I’ll kill you…"

"All right. Fair’s fair. Are you awake?"

"Painfully. What’s the question?"

Treize sighed. "Ni xiang jia gei wo ma?"

Wufei’s eyes snapped open and he forgot to breathe. Then the trembling set in and Wufei pushed himself up from Treize’s warm chest to stare down at the beautiful man before him.

"What did you say?"

Treize flipped Wufei under him and repeated his question with careful intonation, "Ni xiang jia gei wo ma?"

Wufei’s eyes filled with tears and he nodded his head. "I will," he choked out.

Treize smiled — no smirked — and then descended to capture his lovely bride for their first morning kiss.

 

\----owari---- 

 

Translations: 

Ni xiang jia gei wo ma? - Will you marry me?


End file.
